


Let's Stop Running From Love

by melancholymango



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Car Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Knotting, M/M, Overstimulation, Restaurants, Rival Relationship, Rough Sex, Spanking, Top Lance (Voltron), Vampire Keith (Voltron), Werewolf Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26243263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholymango/pseuds/melancholymango
Summary: “You hate him because he’s a vampire.” Hunk corrects, in that annoying way, like he knows something that Lance doesn’t. He steps closer, places a hand on his shoulder. “But if he wasn’t?”“But he is.” Lance reiterates, for what feels like the hundredth time, feeling inexplicably exhausted all of the sudden. “He is a vampire, Hunk, he can’t stop being a vampire. This is a stupid game to play.”
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 957





	Let's Stop Running From Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hyperbabble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperbabble/gifts).



> Hey all! Y'all already know I'm excited to be coming back with another werewolf/vampire fic. This is where I thrive, this is my calling, this is where my passion lies. I fucking love monsters, all of em, but this combo hits different.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to hyperbabble aka Emma, for requesting were/vamp and also being such a doll throughout the entire process of me writing this whenever I asked for input or opinions??? 
> 
> There aren't any warnings for this story aside from the blood drinking. There's a little friendly rivalry rough-housing but nothing graphic or violent beyond playful. Everything sexual is completely consensual.

It’s one of  _ those  _ nights.

Nights when the moon and stars are completely clouded over, bathing the dingy back alley behind the restaurant Lance works at in complete darkness.

It’s not so dark that Lance can’t see where he’s going, but it’s dark enough that every shadowed corner is a pool of empty black. The alley itself is nestled between two massive outdated brick buildings, just a skinny little walkway to the back parking lot, and Lance knows that if he were human… he’d wouldn’t be able to see his own hand an inch from his face.

As he makes his way toward the dumpster, dragging three bags of garbage behind him, he wishes desperately that he’d been able to book today off. 

His  _ bones _ ache with every step, and he’s sporting a collection of scratches and bruises all over his body, not to mention the blatant limp he’s had in his step all day. He can think of a million things he’d rather be doing instead of hauling heavy bags of garbage down a dark alleyway, namely passing out on his couch.

It doesn’t really help that he’s being  _ followed _ either, when he’s at his weakest the day after a full moon.

He hauls the bags over the edge of the dumpster one by one, ignoring the way his sore muscles protest every movement, arms feeling uniquely noodle-like. He feels the heavy gaze boring into his back, has the vaguest understanding of where his pursuer is standing, in that little alcove about ten feet back.

Lance is lifting the final bag into the bin when his stalker starts to approach.

Light footsteps, airy and graceful, so calculated that you can’t hear the slightest scuff of boots against concrete. Lance can only hear the ever-so-quiet thud as the weight settles against the ground.

The footsteps come to a stop behind him.

He hears the shift of air as a hand reaches toward him.

“Put a hand on me and I swear I’ll tear it off.” Lance snarls, whipping around in time to grab Keith’s wrist before those fingertips so much as graze his skin. The moment Lance grabs him, Keith grabs him back, his reaction so instantaneous that Lance has no time to brace himself. 

Outside of the full moon itself, Lance’s werewolf speed doesn’t  _ quite _ match up to a vampire’s.

Lance ends up slammed against the dumpster with enough force to add a new bruise to the many littering his back. 

Once he’s pinned in place, they both take a moment to evaluate each other. Keith holds him there, hand in the center of his chest with a fistful of cotton stretched taut in his hold. Lance glares back at him, huffing for breath, feeling petulant that he doesn’t even have a fighting chance to try and escape.

“You  _ forgot _ one.” Keith snaps, nodding down at the bag by his feet. Lance eyes it skeptically, realizing that Keith must have carried it out. “I’m helping you, would it  _ kill you  _ to show a little gratitude?”

“It might.” Lance jokes, glancing down the line of his body to emphasize his point, specifically where Keith’s pale hand is clutching his work uniform with enough force to tear it. He expects Keith to let him go right away, but he doesn’t, he lingers for a long moment. Long enough for the beginnings of genuine anxiety to build in Lance’s gut, painstakingly aware of how helpless he is right now.

Like clockwork, Lance runs through every tidbit of vampire knowledge he has rattling around his brain, all things he’s picked up on during the past few months of having Keith as a coworker. If it weren’t for the mandatory close quarters, he can safely say he would have gone his entire life never bothering to learn a thing about Keith’s  _ people _ .

His grip is shaky and unstable even with the strength behind it, nothing like his usual statuesque inhuman level of control over himself. His upper lip is curled back, just slightly, just enough to show off the points of his fangs below it. But the most transparent giveaway lies in Keith’s dark eyes, their usual cool violet replaced by an unsettling burgundy. 

Those red undertones can only mean one thing, at least to Lance’s understanding, though he’s never bothered to bring it up to Keith directly… he’s pretty sure he can guess. 

Lance gets squirmy, wonders offhandedly if Keith can hear the way his heart’s racing in his chest, pumping blood through his veins. He wonders if the panic amuses him, or if it excites him.

“You planning on proving me right and dumping my body in the dumpster? Or can I go?” Lance blurts out, bringing his hand up to grip at Keith’s wrist, digging his nails into his skin. Keith blinks out of his stupor slowly, but he still doesn’t let Lance go, because when is it ever that easy with Keith?

“A tempting thought, truly... but it’s not worth having to cover your shifts until Allura manages to find someone to replace you, so I’ll let you live.  _ For now _ .”

“ _ Ooh _ , ominous. I just felt a chill go down my spine and everything.” Lance singsongs back, at which point Keith finally lets go of him. He stumbles on his feet, knees desperate to collapse under his own weight, but he’s quick to right himself. His pride couldn’t take Keith calling him out on it.

“You’re obnoxious.” Keith informs him, moving to lean against the brick wall lining the alley, watching as Lance struggles to lift the final bag into the dumpster. He doesn’t offer to help. Asshole.

“And you’re a fucking creep.” Lance grunts. “Stop sneaking up on me. I know you do it on purpose, just to see how close you can get without me noticing. Get over yourself, you’re not as quiet as you think.”

“You’d be wise not to insult me right now. You’re not as strong as _ you _ think either.” Keith reminds him, an audible smugness behind the words that has Lance’s metaphorical hackles raising. 

“Full moon just passed, of course I’m not.” Lance shrugs his shoulders, trying to play it off. But when he turns to start walking back toward the restaurant, he has to  _ drag _ his feet along the concrete when they feel too heavy to lift. Keith flocks him in that unsettling way he does, tall and dark and looming in Lance’s peripheral vision. “What about it, huh? You’re gonna kick a man while he’s down? Strike while I’m at my weakest? Sounds like the sort-of sleazy thing a vamp would do.”

“Fuck you.”

“No thank-you, I’m not so hard-up for sex that I’d fuck a corpse.” Lance mutters back, not even bothering to look over his shoulder for Keith’s reaction. He’s pissed him off enough times by now that he has that menacing scowl burned into his retinas. Keith is charmingly predictable that way, when his reaction to  _ most things  _ is a scowl. He’s a one trick pony.

Instead, Lance hurries back to the restaurant, trying to hide the limp in his step all the while in case Keith does decide to jump him at any moment. 

It’s not until they reach the door and Lance has his hand settled on the knob, relief flooding him at finally being able to sit down again for a while… that he thinks to question why Keith is out here at all.

“What are you doing out here anyway? Your break’s not for another hour, Hunk could have just told me about the extra bag when I went back in. Don’t you have dishes to wash or something?”

Keith looks disgruntled, his nose scrunched up in annoyance. He leans against the wall beside the door, then slowly slides down it to kneel on the ground. It’s the smoke corner, where some of their human employees go to sit on their breaks, but Lance has never seen Keith smoke in his life. Why he’d choose to kneel in a bunch of cigarette butts then is another question entirely.

A long beat of silence follows, like Keith is struggling to figure out how to explain himself.

“... Hunk cut his hand in the kitchen.” He huffs eventually, in one long defeated sigh, and Lance couldn’t stop the grin that spreads across his face in answer if he  _ tried _ .

“Aw, poor thing, did Allura put you in the time-out corner because you couldn’t control your  _ urges _ ?”

“Keep fucking talking,  _ mutt _ , and you’ll see what a lack of control  _ really _ looks like.” Keith snarls.

“Whatever.” Lance shrugs dismissively, ducking through the door before Keith can swipe at his legs. He’s still giggling when he wanders into the kitchen and Hunk shoots him a questioning look, but Lance just shakes his head, grin growing ever wider when he spots the bandage on Hunk’s palm.

Nothing brings a werewolf joy quite like a vampire’s misery.

\--

It’s not  _ quite _ an unlucky coincidence that two gravely-opposing supernatural creatures find themselves working at the same restaurant. See, the owner of the restaurant, Allura, is well-known within _ all _ circles. 

She’s one of the strongest witches the world has seen in a hundred years and with that title, she’s earned the respect of everyone. The fae consider her a near-equal, the vampires consider her a necessary and helpful ally to further their own causes, the shifters consider her a friend, and anyone and everyone beyond that sees her as the idol she is.

Not to mention she’s  _ also _ a celebrity with the humans, a household name, an actor and a model and now a business mogul as she opens more and more restaurants. 

Allura is the figurehead of the movement to help the supernatural out of the shadows, to introduce them into modern society and bring them into the light. There’s no one better for it, no one the humans would trust more, no one more diplomatic and graceful to handle such high-risk responsibilities.

And, because Allura knows better than anyone what challenges being a member of the supernatural presents when trying to fit in to human society, she makes a point to hire as many supernatural beings as she can at all of her restaurants. Lance jumped on the opportunity to work somewhere that’d be forgiving about the moon’s influence over him and even give him days off when he needs them most.

Keith… unfortunately… had been quick to jump at a job that wouldn’t question the way his eyes changed color, or how his fangs appeared at inopportune times, or how he sometimes had to sprint away from one of the tables he was waiting on when the hunger struck too strong.

And, aside from the fact he has to work with a vampire, it really _ is _ a wonderful job.

\--

Sometimes though, Lance has to wonder if it’s worth dealing with Keith, no matter how wonderful it is.

Like when they get caught bickering over who has to refill the coffee machine and end up both banished to bathroom duty together. There’s nothing as uniquely miserable as being bent over, scrubbing away at a gross public toilet, while a vampire watches from the corner of the stall you’re both crowded into.

They’d flipped a coin on it. Lance called tails and  _ lost _ . 

“I think you missed a spot.” Keith tells him matter-of-factly, leaning over his shoulder to scrutinize. With a sigh, Lance looks up at him and points the toilet brush in his direction. He recoils like he’s been struck.

“You’re right, the biggest piece of shit is standing right here next to me.”

“Touch me with that and I swear to _ god  _ I’ll dunk your head in this toilet.” Keith hisses at him, all puffed up and posturing, his fangs on proud display behind the curl of his lip. Lance grins wolfishly, extending his arm further and watching Keith plaster himself against the door of the stall to avoid it.

“I’d like to see you try it, bloodsucker.” Lance grins, chucking the toilet brush at him. He manages to bat it away long before it hits his face, but he still has to touch it with his hand, and he looks murderous enough about that fact. Still, Lance finds laughter bubbling up in his chest.

In an instant, Keith’s hands are on the back of Lance’s head, fingers knotted in his short hair and shoving him toward the toilet bowl. Lance screeches, thrashing against the pressure, kicking and snarling as Keith keeps trying to give him a goddamn  _ swirlie _ in a public bathroom.

“You like that, bitch? Gonna drink from the toilet bowl like a  _ dog _ ? Gonna be a  _ good boy  _ for me?”

Slowly but surely, Keith is overpowering him, and he’s being pushed closer and closer to the water’s surface. It may be full of cleaner, but Lance had seen what it looked like before he scrubbed that sucker clean, and he’s not about to let Keith win just because he chose to fight him so soon after the full moon.

…. Lance pulls a cheap shot out of desperation.

He donkey-kicks his foot backward, driving it up between Keith’s legs with full force.

“Fuck!” Keith shouts, practically howls, unwinding his fingers from Lance’s hair with a cruel yank and stumbling backward. Lance scrambles to right himself and follows after him, pouncing on Keith’s crumpled-over form and slamming him into the side of the stall with enough force to leave an indent in the metal.

Lance brackets his arm against Keith’s chest, huffing with exertion as he pins him there. It’s only been a few days since the full moon, he’s nowhere near his usual self yet, but Keith doesn’t look like he’s in a position to try and fight back just yet. So Lance gloats while he can, fully aware that this might end in him being drowned in a dingy toilet, so he’d better make the best of it while he can.

“I’m _ so _ not the bitch here, Keith.” Lance chuckles, wrapping a hand around Keith’s throat and tilting his head back, pinning that to the wall too. “I could take you with my hands tied behind my back. _ Admit it _ .”

The ring of Keith’s irises is thin, a deep threatening shade of crimson like when he’s gone without food for days, and he stares at Lance like he’s a damn sirloin. 

And when he speaks, his voice is comically comparable to every exaggerated vampire in the movies, all deep and mysterious, practically a hiss with the way the words are seething with anger.

“By the time I’m through with you, you’re gonna beg me for mercy.” Keith grins. “And I _ won’t  _ give it.”

Lance has some manner of witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, he swears he does, he just has to take a minute to calibrate because something about Keith whispering to him like that is causing adverse reactions, causing heat to pool through him in a way that’s entirely unwelcome right about now.

Unfortunately, Lance never gets the chance to share his flawless response, because instead-

“Jesus. This is a fucking family establishment!” 

They both freeze, going comically still.

The man in the stall next to them sounds unimpressed to say the very least. Lance can only imagine what all of this sounded like to _ him _ , from an outside perspective. They’re both painstakingly aware of every shift of fabric as the man pulls his pants up, using the full extent of their heightened hearing to listen for anything more. 

It startles them both when a hand slams against the wall they’re leaning against.

They jump, scrambling to the other side of the stall in one clumsy unit, limbs still tangled up together.

They hit the opposite wall with a thud. Lance has one leg hooked between Keith’s and a hand still clutching a fistful of his shirt, but he’s not really pinning him anymore as much as leaning against him for support while they both stare in mortification at the pair of boots visible beneath the stall divider.

“Get a room! Dirty fucking perverts!” With that, the man marches out of his own stall and slams the door behind him, before rushing out of the bathroom… no doubt to find a manager to alert about this.

Slowly, Keith and Lance turn to look at each other.

“Allura’s gonna _ kill us _ .” They both say in complete unison, a sense of dread audible behind the words.

\--

Lance’s absolute _ favorite _ part about working at the restaurant is Hunk.

It’s hard to believe they’d met for the first time just a year ago, when Lance first started working here. 

Hunk is the very best friend Lance ever could have asked for. He’s kind, patient, grounding through all of Lance’s dramatics and full of enthusiasm through Lance’s sudden whims of passion. Not to mention he’s the best chef of all time and his cooking alone is the reason people keep coming back to eat here.

Not to mention that Hunk rarely, if ever, gets tired of Lance. Not like everyone else, who reaches a point in his droning and complaining or pining that they have to cut him off and shut him up. Hunk not only allows him to keep talking, he keeps listening, offering input on all of Lance’s first world problems.

He’s a gem, simply put, and his presence alone makes up for Keith’s in a heartbeat.

“I just don’t get it, it’s like I’m not _ meant _ to find love.” Lance sighs, bitterly chopping into the carrot Hunk had told him to slice up. “This happens with every person I go out with. I’m into them, they’re into me, one thing leads to another and we take things to the bedroom… only for them to not call me back the next day. Do you think I’m bad in bed? Or maybe I’m too good in bed and I intimidated when I-”

“Maybe they’re leading you on and only want you for your body, Lance.” Hunk interrupts him, before he can go into detail about his secret set of moves that he shows off to every partner he charms into his bed. He’s immediately dismissive, because he’s pretty sure this last one had caught feelings on the first date when Lance sucked him off in the backseat of his Lexus, but he doesn’t get the chance to say as much before Hunk turns away from his work to stare at him. “It’s not like you hold out very long.”

“ _ Hunk _ !”

“What! I’m just saying!” Hunk raises his hands into the air defensively, nevermind the sharp steak knife he’s holding that makes it look like a far more aggressive gesture. “You wanted my honest opinion.”

“I never said I wanted honesty at _ any _ point in that conversation, Hunk!”

“It’s either tell you the truth or let history keep repeating itself.” 

“You really think I’m a slut?” Lance gasps, dropping the knife he’d been chopping with to turn around, his bottom lip poked out in a pout and quivering like he might cry. His acting skills may be top notch, but in reality he’s more self-aware than anyone gives him credit for, and he’s just amused that Hunk would call him out on it so bluntly. So what if he _ is _ a slut? Nothing wrong with that.

He’s a man that knows what he wants and he knows how to get it, that’s all.

“I just mean…  _ Lance _ , I think you go for the shitty guys who won’t treat you right _ on purpose _ . I think you go into these relationships knowing they aren’t going to work out because you’ve convinced yourself that it’s all you deserve. But Lance, you deserve better than this idiots who take you for granted.”

Alright,  _ maybe _ he’s a man that knows what he wants and lives in denial of it, whatever.

_ Maybe  _ he’s been settling for meaningless sex because the idea of a committed relationship is so abstract and foreign to him at this point that he doesn’t even know where he’d begin… but that’s not the light he wants to paint his extracurricular activities in, thank-you very much. He’s a glass half-full kinda guy.

“Aw, buddy, are you finally confessing your feelings for me? I feel the same.”

“Lance. I’m serious. Don’t make a joke out of it because it makes you nervous.” Hunk deadpans, calling him out on his bullshit a second time in less than five minutes, and Lance flounders slightly. “Why don’t you just try to go on a date? A real serious date. I know some people I can set you up with, people who would treat you right and give back the same amount of love and dedication you give to everyone else.”

Lance stares at him, eyes wide and unblinking, uncertain how to get out of this situation in a way that doesn’t prove Hunk’s point exactly.

His saving grace comes in the form of his phone buzzing against the counter. He shrugs apologetically before rushing to check his text, grinning ridiculously wide when he picks it up and finds a text from the guy that’d started his forlorn ranting in the first place. Lance looks up, still smiling as he wiggles his eyebrows in Hunk’s direction.

“Put a pause on that finding true love thing, Hunk, my dick appointment’s back on.”

“Gross.” Keith groans as he walks into the kitchen, dumping a tray full of dishes into the sink.

“Fuck off,  _ Keith _ , homophobia might have flown with your generation but nowadays we don’t tolerate that shit. Don’t have anything nice to say, close your damn mouth.” Lance snaps at him, foot darting out just in time to trip him on his way back out of the room. Keith stumbles before steadying himself and turning back to Lance, looking utterly annoyed to his core.

Lance loves getting under his skin like this. He’s so easy to anger, easy to rile, and he rises to every single challenge Lance poses. 

“I’m gay! I’ve  _ been  _ gay longer than you’ve been alive!” Keith snaps at him, waving his hands around haphazardly. This isn’t new information, Keith has never made an effort to hide his sexuality, but that’s not enough to keep Lance from teasing him. “I don’t care if you like dicks, Lance, I’m disgusted by the thought that anyone would want to see  _ yours _ .”

“Haha, so funny.” Lance chuckles, picking his knife back up and tapping the flat edge against his palm a few times, just casual enough to seem absentminded. 

In one smooth move, Lance steps forward to close the distance between them and shoves the point of the knife into Keith’s gut. It stabs into him remarkably easy, and Lance watches red start to soak through his uniform shirt in one blotchy patch.

“Fuck!” Keith snarls, hands darting to clutch the knife and put pressure on the wound. Hunk gives a tired groan from the other side of the room, where he’s watching it play out.

“My hand slipped, sorry.” Lance says, flashing a smile. Keith glares at him, cold and unnerving, eyes as blood-red as his white shirt is becoming. Lance can’t help it, he winks at him. “You might wanna take that outside, it’s a biohazard.”

“I’m gonna get you back for this, asshole.” Keith hisses, but then he’s scurrying out of the room, no doubt embarrassed about the unmistakable lisp he has with his fangs fully extended like that. Lance laughs cruelly as he goes, spinning around on his heel to march back to Hunk’s side, whistling cheerily.

“Where were we, babe? Let’s psychoanalyze me some more.” Lance leans against the counter beside him, radiating casual happiness, both from getting a text back finally and from inflicting pain and misery on Keith.

“Lance, you can’t just  _ stab him _ whenever he annoys you.”

“I don’t see why not.” Lance argues. Hunk lifts his head, suiting him with an unimpressed stare. “Aw, come on, he heals in like five minutes! And it’s so satisfying!”

“Yes, but now I’m gonna have to listen to you complain when he breaks your arm the week of the full moon again. Keith might be able to walk away with a shrug in a couple minutes, but your bones don’t reset until you shift, and you’re so  _ whiny _ about it. Can’t you guys stoke the flames of your rivalry in less aggressive ways? You need to get over this obsession you have with him.”

“Whatever.” Lance rolls his eyes. Then, a good thirty seconds later, once Hunk has long since gone back to chopping vegetables. “For the record, I’m  _ not _ obsessed with him, he’s obsessed with  _ me _ . And he’s just pissy because I’ve had more sex than him and he’s been alive almost twice as long.”

“You’re definitely obsessed with him.”

“I am not!”

“You definitely are.”

“I’m definitely not!” Lance argues, perhaps a little petulantly, as he crosses the kitchen and forgets about his current task entirely. He leans against the counter next to Hunk’s workspace, ready to give him a piece of his mind without holding back, a fiery list of expletives at the ready… but something catches his eye and renders him uncharacteristically speechless. Lance’s mouth slowly eases to a close.

Hunk turns, catching his eye and quirking an eyebrow in question. 

He knows better than anyone how strange it is for Lance to back down from an argument, especially one involving Keith or the topic of Keith. There are very few things in this world that would convince Lance to give up the last word and he’s currently staring at one of them. 

“Is that a fucking vampire bite?” Lance asks, with his usual level of bluntness, lacking the ability to make it even somewhat casual when he feels like his entire world has been upturned. Because there, right there peeking above the collar of Hunk’s uniform, is a dark bruise with two pin-prick puncture wounds directly in the center of it. Lance didn’t really need to ask, he knows his answer, he knows what he’s looking at. He’s not stupid.

Hunk’s eyes go wide and his hand darts to his neck.

“Lance, I can explain.” Hunk tells him, voice carefully even, not alluding to even a single emotion he might be feeling when he’s so clearly trying to placate Lance’s. He takes a step toward Lance, but Lance backs away just as quick, feeling flighty and uncertain. 

It isn’t personal. Lance  _ knows _ it isn’t. Lance loves and trusts Hunk with his entire soul.

It  _ feels  _ personal though, feels like Hunk went behind his back and did the one thing Lance would struggle the most to understand, with the last person on the face of the planet that he should have done it with.

“I’ll kill him.” Lance says then, decisively, because the more he thinks about it the more it isn’t Hunk’s fault at all. Keith must have done something to him, must have used his freaky vampire mind-compulsion powers on Hunk’s poor human brain and taken advantage of him. There’s no way that Hunk would ever willingly let a vampire bite him, obviously. “I swear the next time I see him I’m gonna tear his throat o-”

“Oh my god, it wasn’t Keith!” Hunk shouts, loud enough that the customers at the bar must hear it, loud enough that Keith definitely hears it with his heightened sense of hearing even from the other side of the building where he’s waiting tables. 

Lance blanks. 

Hunk sounds  _ angry _ , though it’s a rare enough emotion to hear in his voice that it takes Lance a moment to determine that. “And you know what? It’s not your  _ place _ to come to my defense.”

“I’m just _ trying _ to look out for you because I care about you.” Lance argues right back, feeling something insecure rearing its ugly head in his chest. He’s always prided himself in his loyalty, but to hear Hunk sound so off-put by it has Lance reevaluating everything he knows about himself.

“I never asked you to!”

“I don’t wanna see you get taken advantage of! How is that a bad thing?!”

“Because you’re not listening to me! You’re jumping to conclusions and projecting your own warped ideologies about vampires onto me!” Hunk shouts at him again and Lance recoils, flattening himself back against the counter, the picture of a kicked puppy. Hunk takes one long look at him and sighs, regret clouding his features immediately. “Look, I’ve never questioned it, I’ve looked the other way when you go on about hating vampires because for all I know it is a biological thing… but that doesn’t mean I feel the same. I have no reason to cast judgment on an entire group of people for something they have no control over and were forced into. Have you ever once talked to Keith about it beyond judging him?”

“I thought you said it  _ wasn’t  _ Keith.”

“It wasn’t, but we both know that’s who this is about.” Lance doesn’t know what to say, but luckily Hunk seems to have an awful lot to share on the subject and he more than makes up for the silence. “You have a stupid middle-school crush on him and you’ve repressed it so deep down that you can’t even see it, but trust me everyone else knows. We  _ all  _ know. The only one who might not is Keith himself, but only because he’s in the same boat, denying it so vehemently that he’s convinced himself it doesn’t exist too.”

“I don’t-” Lance starts to speak then stops himself, his tongue feeling weighty in his mouth, struggling to form words when it feels so crucial that he gets his point across. He’s not sure when or how Hunk got so confused, but he can’t let it go on a minute longer. “I don’t have a fucking crush on him! Have you lost your mind?! How much blood did you _ lose _ ?! I hate him, I hate his guts, I hate his stupid face, if it weren’t for the fact I’d lose my job I’d probably be the one to kill him a second time. Besides, what kind of idiot would ever date a vampire?!”

“Lance, I love you, but sometimes you are the most tone deaf person I’ve ever met.” Hunk says finally, shaking his head in a way that can only be described as immensely disappointed. “You know that girl I’ve been seeing? Shay? She’s a vampire, Lance. I’m that kind of idiot that would date a vampire.”

“I didn’t know.” Lance whispers, regret suffocating him.

“ _ That’s _ who bit me, not Keith.” Hunk clarifies even further, just in case Lance hasn’t figured it out. “And you know what, Lance? I asked for it. She didn’t suggest it, she didn’t pressure me, and she sure as hell didn’t force herself on me. It was all my idea, I had to _ convince  _ her to bite me because she was so nervous about hurting me. She is nothing like this idea of what a vampire is that you’ve convinced yourself of. She’s kind, gentle, sensitive… and Keith is too, if you get to know him a little.”

“Why?” Lance shakes his head, trying to force the unsettled feeling from his gut. It doesn’t work, it only grows more intense the more Lance thinks about willingly propositioning a vampire to feed on you. It should send warning bells ringing in your head, anyone with a half-working self-preservation instinct would agree with him. He doesn’t understand what would possess Hunk to  _ want _ that. 

“What do you mean  _ why _ ?”

“Why?! Why would you possibly want to have a vampire drink your bl-”

“I was curious! Sue me! You can’t lie to me and say you haven’t thought about it.”

“Uh, maybe in my nightmares?”

“Oh, give it up.” Hunk huffs, rolling his eyes. Lance glares back at him, refusing to back down. “So you’re telling me, when Keith goes all feral with his fangs out and his freaky red eyes, you’ve never once thought about-”

“No! Of course not!” Lance interrupts with a snarl, his hair standing on end. “God, it’s like you don’t even  _ know  _ me. You really think I’d even entertain the idea of letting a vampire-”

“Lance, I know you better than anyone else. I’m your best friend.” Hunk deadpans, leaving very little room for argument, and Lance can’t help but feel it’d be a terrible misstep to even try. It’s true, Hunk is his best friend, he knows him in ways that no one else ever has or ever will. 

But this? This is a mistake. Somewhere along the way he must have misinterpreted things and it snowballed into an entire conspiracy theory. Lance doesn’t  _ like  _ Keith, he certainly doesn’t love him, he barely even manages to tolerate him.

And a big part of him wants to dig his heels in and stand his ground, defend himself until he’s blue in the face and out of breath with it. He’s spent so long trying to make his stance clear that it feels like a personal offense to be challenged now. He’s left no stone unturned, left no argument undefended, left no possible reason for anyone to suspect he might possibly like Keith. 

It takes everything within him to reel it in and force himself to prioritize the most important thing first. 

“Look, I think it’s clear that I owe you an apology.” Lance says, looking Hunk in the eye even through the shame clawing at him. “You’ve always been an open ear, free of judgment no matter what I come to you with, and clearly I haven’t been the same for you. I’m sorry. I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me, I was so caught up in myself I was blind to how I was hurting you and backing you into a corner where you had no choice but to smile and nod along with whatever I said. At the end of the day, no matter what, I just want to see you happy. If she makes you happy, then she’s alright in my books.”

“ _ Lance _ .” Hunk’s voice cracks in a very telltale way and Lance scrambles to do damage control.

“Hunk, you can’t cry in the kitchen! That’s like rule number o-” He doesn’t get very far into it before Hunk ignores him completely and throws his arms around him, pulling him in like a bear. Lance stumbles forward, crushed into the warmth of Hunk’s chest, a blush spreading across his face. 

“Thank-you, Lance. You have no idea what a relief that is.” Hunk whispers, hugging him impossibly tighter, threatening to crush him. Lance groans, squirming to try and get loose, feeling flustered by all the undeserved affection. He feels even worse now about acting like such a dick lately.

“I mean, I’m really doing the bare minimum here, it’s not like you _ need  _ my blessing.”

“No, but I wanted it.” Hunk tells him quietly, leaning back just enough that they can make eye contact without dropping the embrace. “You said it yourself, you’re my best friend and I want you to be a part of everything I do. And I know how hard it is for you to go back on your word about things like this, so-”

“Dude, my word means nothing compared to you. You’re my number one.”

“You think you’d be up to meeting her sometime? Could you be cool about it?”

“Cool as a cucumber, baby, you can count on me.” Lance insists, flashing him a toothy grin and a pair of finger guns, finally managing to untangle himself from Hunk’s hold. He stumbles backward, laughing high and reedy in the back of his throat, hoping his nervousness isn’t too transparent. “Seriously, Hunk, I’ll be on my best behaviour. Scout’s honor. I’ll be the best wingman you’ve ever had the honor of flying with.”

“Can I ask you one more question?” Hunk says, suddenly serious, and Lance feels a rising panic that he’s about to be called out on his shitty behaviour again. It’s nothing he doesn’t deserve though, so he simply shrugs and goes along with it. “Promise to answer it honestly and I’ll never bring it up again.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“If Keith _ wasn’t _ a vampire, would you be interested in him?”

It’s not what he was expecting.

Not at _ all _ .

With no time to prepare for it, Lance flounders like a fish out of water in the face of such a blunt question. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know the first thing to do to untangle the horrifically mixed emotions the question ignites in his chest. He’s never thought about it, it seemed like a slippery slope to go down, trying to see Keith as anything other than what he was.

Sometimes, things really are as black and white as they seem. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a vampire and a werewolf not getting along because their very biology dictates they shouldn’t.

Lance isn’t so sure anymore if this is one of those times.

The more he thinks about it, the more he’s forced to consider Hunk’s question, to see Keith in a light different than shrouded darkness for the very first time… the more it seems like one of those shades of grey situations. But that’s complicated, far more complicated than Lance is ready for yet.

“No fucking way.” Lance insists, in a way so vehement and squeaky that he can’t even believe his damn self about it. Hunk lifts a single eyebrow, questioning him, and Lance just panics even more. “I hate him, Hunk, what part of that is so hard to understand?!” 

“Um, all of it?” Hunk laughs, throwing his hands in the air. “He’s literally exactly your type! The only difference is he isn’t a douchebag with an ego the size of the moon looking to use you for your body! He’s edgy with a secret soft side, cool with a slew of dorky interests, and your last boyfriend literally could have passed for his twin brother. You’re telling me you’ve never even thought about it? Not once?”

“Pfft,  _ no _ .” Lance wheezes. “Of course not… I… I  _ hate _ him.”

“You hate him  _ because  _ he’s a vampire.” Hunk corrects, in that annoying way, like he knows something that Lance doesn’t. He steps closer, places a hand on his shoulder. “But if he  _ wasn’t _ ?”

“But he _ is _ .” Lance reiterates, for what feels like the hundredth time, feeling inexplicably exhausted all of the sudden. “He  _ is  _ a vampire, Hunk, he can’t  _ stop _ being a vampire. This is a stupid game to play.”

“Think about it, that’s all I’m saying.” Hunk shrugs, finally turning away and leaving Lance to scru the blush from his cheeks in peace. He goes back to his work and Lance can’t even pay attention to the smooth way the knife slices through vegetable after vegetable, dicing them into the finest little pieces across the counter. God, Lance has never related to a piece of cabbage more. 

He’s still spaced out ten minutes later, thinking about it and running laps in his own mind, agonizing over the entire conversation like he was a bystander rather than a participant.

He almost doesn’t even register what Hunk says next.

“For the record, it actually feels good.”

He almost wishes he hadn’t registered what Hunk just said.

“For the record, I didn’t ask.” Lance chokes out, hand slamming down against the counter to support himself. He doesn’t want to think about this. It’s disgusting, it goes against a wolf’s basic moral code, it should set him retching and gagging just to think about it. He shouldn’t be standing here, watching Hunk stutter and blush his way through a middle school recital of the entire  _ lecherous _ act.

“Really good. They’ve got this venom stuff that gets released when their fangs come out and it’s supposed to keep the people they’re feeding from calm, but man, it goes beyond that. It’s like a fucking drug, an aphrodisiac or something, you wouldn’t believe it. You know I’m the biggest wimp around, and I’m telling you, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. And again, and again, and-”

“Shut-up!” Lance shouts finally, groaning pathetically as he sinks down into a nearby seat, burying his face into his hands and burning up behind his cover. “Has anyone ever introduced you to the concept of TMI, Hunk? Please, for the sake of my sanity, spare the fucking details.”

“You don’t have to get all jealous.” Hunk chuckles. “You could just ask _ Keith _ , I’m sure he’d show you.”

“Show him what?” At the sound of Keith’s voice, Lance startles so hard he falls out of his seat, his ass hitting the tiled floor with a dull thud. He brings his hands away from his face finally, gaping up at Keith as he walks into the room, carrying a tray stacked with dirty dishes. Keith suits him with a disinterested stare, not phased in the slightest by the odd behaviour. 

When no one offers an explanation, both Hunk and Lance shocked into silence at almost being caught talking about this, Keith takes it upon himself to guess. “Let me guess, you want me to show him how to properly clean the coffee machine? Because he clearly needs a fucking lesson from someone. That thing is disgusting, Lance, did you even _ try _ ? I bet a five year old could do a better job.”

And just like that, everything falls back into place, and Lance can  _ breathe _ again.

“Go fuck yourself.” He snaps, voice dripping with venomous cruelty. Keith lifts his middle finger in response, bypassing him entirely to drop the dishes next to the sink. And normally Lance would feel a sense of dread knowing he’s gonna have to wash those, but right now he feels only a strange sense of relief that their dynamic is the same regardless of what Hunk’s brainwash him with.

Hating Keith is comfortable, familiar, and Lance missed it so terribly in the past few minutes that he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s gonna keep clinging to the safety net of denial. 

What _ is _ it he’s denying? Beats him, he doesn’t care enough to open that can of worms.

“Yeah, well, Allura came for evaluation today and  _ you’re _ marked down as the last to clean it.”

“Shit.” Lance chokes out with jarring realization, stumbling to his feet in hopes of finding her and smoothing things over before it ends in a lecture. He makes a beeline for the door, but Keith’s arm darts out in front of him at the last second to stop him. He growls, low and threatening in his chest, but Keith doesn’t back down and let him leave even then.

“I  _ might _ have had a couple spare minutes earlier to give it a quick once-over.” Keith informs him, his tone light, like he’s mentioning the weather and not admitting to going out of his way to cover for Lance’s sorry ass. Lance looks at him, eyes wide, his breathing catching in his throat. No, no, no, this is not allowed to happen again, what the hell has Hunk done to him?!

Keith doesn’t seem to know what to make of Lance’s staring, growing visibly uncomfortable the longer it stretches on until finally he drops his hand from Lance’s chest with a huff. “You owe me one.”

And just like that, Lance snaps back into himself like an elastic band fitting back to shape.

“Like hell I do! I’d rather face Allura’s wrath than be indebted to you,  _ jackass _ !”

\--

There’s a certain level of comedic cruelty in the way restaurants are always their busiest when half of the staff doesn’t come in for the day. Add to that the fact that it just so happens to be the day of the full moon? Well, uncanny doesn’t begin to cover it. He really has to wonder sometimes if the universe is out to make his life as miserable as possible. It’s doing a good job of it, really.

It’s been a long, agonizing shift. One that he wasn’t even scheduled to come in for, but after getting a message from Allura herself that morning begging him to come in, he decided to take one for the team.

He’s sort-of regretting that selflessness a little bit right about now, as people shout from every corner of the kitchen.

“Lance! Table thirteen’s is ready!” 

“Coming! I’m coming, I just need to finish up with th-” 

“Is anyone watching this gravy? It’s burning to the pan, damn it!”

“Sorry! I was getting to that next, as soon as I was done with-”

“Guys, please tell me you have something for table ten, they’re getting real vocal about their wait out there and I can only do so much damage control. Lance, are you busy right now, can’t you-” 

“I can’t!” Lance shouts, finally snapping after a long day of having orders relentlessly thrown his way. He was on edge to begin with, the moon so very close, and having people bossing him around right now feels so instinctively wrong that he wants to respond with teeth bared and snap at them literally. “I can’t handle this on the day of the fucking full moon! I’m going home early!”

He barely has time to throw his dish towel to the floor before Hunk is at his side, carefully placating as he places a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. Lance doesn’t relax, if anything he gets more tense.

“Hey, no, no, no, you can’t leave. We’re short-staffed as it is. Besides, you’re off in an hour, can’t you last that long?” Hunk whispers to him, offering up his most pathetically endearing smile. Lance sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please, Lance, I’ll make you dinner tomorrow when you’re all exhausted and hungry. I’ll make you anything you want. Just please stay a little longer until this rush is through.”

“Where is Keith anyway?!” Lance shouts suddenly in realization, looking around the room at all of his coworkers bustling around, desperately trying to do ten jobs with only five people. Something furious sparks in Lance’s gut, seeing that Keith has stepped out when they needed him most.

“He went out back for his break.”

“Lazy fuck, why do his breaks  _ always  _ line up with our busiest times.” Lance grits out through his teeth, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I’ll stay, but  _ only _ if he gets back in here and suffers with me.”

“Fine.” Hunk chuckles, shaking his head fondly, wearing a knowing smile that Lance  _ hates _ . “Go get him.”

Entirely too eager to get out of the kitchen and get some fresh air with how claustrophobic he’s been feeling for the past hour, Lance literally trips over his feet in his rush to the back door. He swings it open, expecting to see Keith leaning up against the frame like he usually does on his breaks, silently brooding by himself rather than eating a lunch like a normal person.

Tonight though, the back stoop is completely empty. Void of vampires.

After glancing around to make sure there’s no one around to witness it, Lance tilts his head back and gives a discreet sniff to the air. His sense of smell is immaculate right now, he feels like a damn bloodhound, knows for a fact he could track Keith’s scent back to whatever cave he lives in if he really wanted to. He doesn’t, he doesn’t give a shit where Keith is, he just wants to make sure that he didn’t walk out on the restaurant when he’s supposed to be miserably slaving away with the rest of them.

Luckily, he’s not that far away.

Lance immediately catches Keith’s trail on the breeze and starts to follow it blindly, intrigued by the other smells he can pick up on in the heart of the city. More than that though, he’s intrigued by the smell that grows stronger right along with Keith’s, as he ventures further into the dark alley behind their workplace.

He doesn’t need to go as far as the dumpster, about halfway there he catches a shift of movement in that same alcove between buildings that Keith had been stalking him from before. Lance doesn’t wait to get close enough to see him, he  _ knows  _ who it is, the entire alley reeks of Keith’s corpse-y odor.

“Hey asshole, we could use some help in there whenever you decide to grace us with your almighty pretentious presence once ag-” Lance swings around the corner, peering into the shadowy little nook Keith has holed up in, and promptly snaps his jaw shut.

Rings of crimson stare up at him, a bolder shade than the contents of the see-through bag he’s drinking from, and Lance’s instincts are on such high alert that his immediate response is to  _ growl  _ at him.

Keith responds in kind, tearing his fangs free from the bag he’d been drinking from to bare them at Lance in a menacing hiss. Lance stands there, dumbfounded, as he watches beads of red trail down the sharp points of white. It’s quickly smeared across Keith’s lips and chin in a way that would frankly warrant a little teasing... if it wasn’t also human fucking  _ blood _ .

Keith composes himself first, miraculously, features schooling back into something neutral and lips closing around his fangs. Lance can’t help but notice that they don’t  _ rescind _ , they stay heavy and present in his mouth, their shape outlined behind his lips. It makes sense though, considering the thick scent of blood in the air and the immediate threat of a predator nearby, Lance figures Keith doesn’t have much control over them right about now.

When Keith speaks, it’s so carefully rehearsed and controlled that Lance almost laughs in his face.

“Excuse me. I’m finishing up here, I’ll only be a minute.”

There’s no bite, no emotion, none of the pettiness Lance had directed at him to begin with. 

And for some reason, Lance feels oddly cheated by that. 

Keith loves picking fights and starting arguments any other time of the month, but the one time they’re both at the height of their power, he suddenly decides to take the easy way out? Dismissive, indifferent, like he’s suddenly above it all now that he knows Lance could easily overpower him. No fucking way.

“Yeah, sure, whenever it’s convenient for you. You want me to grab you some napkins too? You know, while we’re all catering to your every need and working around _ your _ schedule.” Lance huffs, leaning back against the brick wall, making no move to leave whatsoever. 

Lance watches out of the corner of his eye as Keith grows visibly more agitated, jaw clenching so hard that it’s a wonder those long thin fangs of his don’t shatter under the pressure. 

“Oh, great, did I do something to piss you off again? 

“Truth be told, your existence alone is enough to piss a person off, but walking out in the middle of our busiest hour is a little shitty even for you.”

Lance watches Keith sit up a little straighter, mindful not to spill the remaining contents of the blood bag he’d been drinking from as he scrubs the red from his face with the back of his hand. There it is, that spark of annoyance, that pinch of those dark eyebrows together as Keith sizes him up and debates if it’s worth the effort of trying to put him in his place. Lance thrives under that scrutinizing stare.

“Seriously? Complain all you fucking want about me walking out when we get busy, but I promise you that’s better than the alternative. I can’t deal with crowds on an empty stomach, so unless you want me to jump a customer then maybe you should _ fuck off  _ and leave me to deal with this however I need to.”

“If I can work through the feeling of my skin crawling and bones shifting around, I’m sure you can wait for your evening snack. Jeez, you vampires are so fucking whiny, get over yourselves.”

“You really wanna do this tonight?” Keith heaves a long breath, like this is the most mentally taxing thing he’s had to deal with all week. Lance pushes off from the wall to stand tall, holding his ground in case Keith makes the first move. “Don’t you think that’s a stupid idea? I was under the impression this was your average workplace rivalry, but if you have actual murderous intent, sure, let’s hash it out on the night of the full moon. Just know that only one of us is gonna walk away from this.” 

“Yeah, and it’ll obviously be me.” Lance rolls his eyes. “Why can’t you just admit that?”

“You’re stronger literally one night of the entire month, I’m sorry if I don’t find that impressive.”

“I could’ve kicked your ass at _ any _ point in the past two weeks.”

“You might have been able to hold your own for a minute or two, but I’d still win.” 

“Well.” Lance places a hand to the wall, leaning over Keith and grinning sleazily down at him. “If you’re so strong and capable, maybe I should eliminate the threat while I have the upper hand.”

“You know what you are, Lance? A  _ coward _ .” Keith sticks his tongue out, past those dainty fangs of his, and Lance feels his entire chest rumble with the force of his growl. “You’re like a kid that doesn’t know how to ask for attention so you just act up until someone looks at you. You can just talk to me like a person, you know, it’s not as complicated as you seem to think it is. Do I make you nervous,  _ Lance _ ?”

Lance… doesn’t know how to respond to that.

Suddenly, nothing about this reads like an argument, it’s venturing dangerously into new territory.

And that makes Lance infuriatingly, traitorously, embarrassingly…  _ nervous _ .

Given the circumstances, Keith grinning at him like that and his heart beating out of his chest like this, Lance does what any red-blooded idiot would do and instigates a fight. It’s familiar, easy, arguing with Keith is like second nature at this point.  _ Talking  _ with Keith is something far more  _ taboo _ .

Lance doesn’t bother saying a word, instead letting his hand dart out and snatch the bag of blood right from Keith’s hand when he’s least expecting it. It’s a messy robbery, Lance ends up with red slicking his arm from the elbow down to his wrist, but it’s worth it entirely for the reaction it earns.

Keith gasps in genuine shock, jaw dropping and hanging there, caught completely off-guard.

It takes him a full ten seconds to come back to his senses enough to remember to be outraged.

“Hey! You asshole! Give it back!” Keith makes a lunge for him, but Lance sidesteps and dodges him with ease, dancing around him as flighty and effortless as Keith normally seems. The moon is urging him on, spurring an animalistic drive inside of him, and toying with his “prey” is exactly what he wants to be doing right now. Keith doesn’t seem to share the sentiment. “I swear, Lance, if you don’t give it back-”

Lance ignores him, lifting the bag to his face and taking a sniff of the contents. He wretches immediately, flinging his arm away and gasping for fresh air to chase the disgusting scent away. He feels sick.

“It smells like  _ shit _ .” Lance whines, though when Keith tries to take it back he doesn’t give it up willingly, slapping his outstretched hand away in a flash of movement. “It doesn’t even smell  _ like _ blood.”

“Well,  _ it is _ ?” Keith responds, confusion showing through the annoyance, as he gets to his feet and follows Lance down the alley. He makes a few more swipes for the blood bag, but he catches on fast that he’s not going to win this with speed or strength alone, not tonight of all nights.

“Why are you drinking this shit anyway? Can’t you just lure someone into the alley and compel them to forget it afterward? Isn’t that what most vampires do?”

“Well, I’m not most vampires.” Keith responds, before immediately cringing inward when he realizes what he’s just said. Lance smirks harder in response, holding the bag at arm’s length behind himself, ducking out of the way whenever Keith tries to reach around him. Finally, Keith gives a defeated huff and slumps back against the wall, throwing his hands up in the air. “My maker, Shiro, he’s a real stickler for holding onto our humanity. We try to get our blood as consensually as possible and surprise, surprise there aren’t many people out here lining up to donate blood to the cause. It’s no secret that we’re the least popular supernatural being among humans, they don’t trust us and they don’t like us.”

“For good reason, considering they’re directly  _ below you _ on the food chain.” Lance muses, shaking the blood bag around to watch the liquid splash around inside it. Keith glares at him harder, visibly struggling to fight the urge to pounce when he knows he won’t win. “How long ago did they collect this?”

“I don’t know? What does it fucking matter? Blood’s blood.” Keith grumbles. At this point, his scowl is bordering on becoming a pout, so petulant about the entire exchange that Lance never wants to give this stupid bag back. He  _ loves  _ this, loves  _ winning _ , loves seeing Keith forced to admit that they’re more evenly matched than he’d like to believe.

Though, he really is curious about this blood because it doesn’t  _ smell _ right.

Lance may not live off the stuff, but he’s smelt his fair share of it. Animal, human, he’s even able to pick up on the slight differences with  _ supernatural  _ blood. Whatever’s in this bag is unlike any of that and it’s decidedly not a _ good  _ different. It smells bad, rancid, like it’s been left out to rot in the sun for a week.

It takes him a minute of studying the bag to figure out how to read the labels printed on it.

“It’s five weeks old! Keith, how can you stomach this shit?!” Lance shouts, rightfully upset with the entire situation, while Keith watches him owlishly like he’s properly lost his mind this time. He’s acting like this is normal, like it’s even remotely acceptable to be drinking the blood equivalent to sour milk. Lance knew the guy was on the dense side, but this is next-level. Unless he has literally nothing to compare it to, there’s no way that he thinks this is-

Oh god, has Keith been drinking this shit since he  _ turned _ ? Is this honestly all he _ knows _ ?

“I’m sorry, but you _ live  _ off of this garbage? You’ve never tried  _ anything _ fresher than this?” Lance asks, genuinely curious at this point, though Keith still looks wary like Lance is trying to pull something on him.

“Usually Adam—Shiro’s human friend that works at the blood bank—gives us the oldest bags they have in stock. They don’t go to waste, we don’t go hungry, no one has to have their blood taken unwillingly, it’s a win-win. They can only keep them in a fridge for six weeks, longer if they freeze it but then it loses-”

Lance isn’t listening anymore, he can’t bear to hear it.

Instead, his attention has drifted back to the offending bag held in his hands.

Now, Lance’s impulse control isn’t something to be marvelled at even at the best of times, but right about now the only thing stopping him from following his every whim wherever it may lead him is the fact that Keith is right here and there isn’t a single thing more tempting than staying to mess with him.

So when Lance gets the urge to taste the blood just to get an idea of how terribly Keith has been depriving himself of his literal only basic necessity, there’s nothing stopping him.

He brings the bag to his face and Keith doesn’t react, still rambling on about morals as a vampire, going full nerd right there in the alley covered in blood. He must think that Lance is going in for another sniff, it isn’t until Lance brings his lips to the puncture-wounds left by Keith’s fangs that everything goes eerily silent. 

Keith freezes, looking properly mortified, a hundred and one different expressions flickering across his features rapid-fire style. Lance ignores him, sucking hard to get a good amount, like the world’s most unsettling wine-tasting. Maybe he’ll even swish it around a little, make sure he gets the full array of flavors from-

“What the actual fuck, Lance!?” Keith shouts finally, finding the eloquent words he’d been searching for all this time. Lance has to resist the strong urge to snort with laughter when his mouth is full of blood.

The most repulsive, unnatural, sickening blood he’s _ ever  _ tasted.

He can’t even swallow, he spits it out across the ground with an audible gag.

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?! I know the full moon messes with your head, but this is worse than usual, should I be worried right now? You got a thirst for blood or something? Did you really come out here to kill me because I ditched out during the dinner rush because if that’s the case I-”

“This isn’t worth eating, I’ll tell you that much.” Lance announces then, utterly certain of the fact, as his claws sharpen at his fingertips so he can tear the bag into two neat halves. The sorry excuse for blood coats the floor of the alley and Keith falls to his knees dramatically like something out of a movie, frantically trying to spare some of it from seeping into the pavement. 

“Lance! That’s all I have, you jackass!” Keith whines, looking up at him with exasperation. It quickly shifts into anger though and Lance watches it happen before his very eyes. Keith gets to his feet in an instant, his stance firm as he swings his fist with the first punch. Lance doesn’t even flinch, he grabs his hand and holds it tight, an inch from making impact with his jaw. 

Keith braces himself, like he expects Lance to retaliate, but Lance doesn’t.

He’s still caught up on the fact that Keith has spent  _ decades _ drinking off-brand expired blood.

“It’s for your own good.” Lance insists, even though that only seems to annoy Keith even more for some reason, and he starts struggling to tear his hand free of Lance’s grip. Even his best effort is a mild inconvenience at best right now though, as the sunset starts to fade to a starry night sky, and the moon begins to rise. “If I bit into a deer and it tasted like  _ that  _ inside? God, I’d go get myself checked for rabies or distemper, maybe even  _ worms _ . I don’t even know what’s wrong with that shit, but it ain’t  _ right _ .”

For a moment, it looks like Keith is gonna go right on fighting him, perhaps even get more vicious about it if the reds of his irises are any giveaway. But slowly, realization dawns across his features, and then he’s left there staring dumbly back at Lance.

“You eat  _ deer _ ?”

“Duh? I’m a wolf, hunting is what wolves  _ do _ .” Lance scoffs, scrubbing his bloody hand off against his jeans, paying little mind to the massive stain it leaves behind. He’s not really thinking ahead right now, not doing much thinking at all if he’s being honest. “Just like biting is what vampires do. Have you ever even used your fangs or have you been chugging this garbage since you turned? If so, I think I finally understand why you’re so goddamn awful to be around.”

“Believe it or not, some of us prefer  _ not _ to be slaves to our instincts.” Keith huffs, holding his head high, that snooty little scowl on his face that never fails to drive Lance mad. A low growl forms in the back of his throat, but he swallows it back. If he’s being perfectly honest, he doesn’t want this to end in a fight.

He has another idea, one that he’s  _ just _ shy of his humanity enough to entertain.

“Oh, fuck off with that holier than thou bullshit.” Lance rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air and moving to lean against the wall. Keith watches him warily, but he doesn’t try to pursue and start anything, he just waits for Lance to make a move. Lance grins. “For the record, I was extending an offer.”

“Of  _ what _ ?” Keith spits out, less of a question and more of an accusation, like maybe he already knows.

Lance shrugs, rolling his neck and listening to the answering crack, leaving it lolled to the side so the full length of his throat is on display. It goes against his most basic instincts right now, baring his throat in submission instead of posturing threateningly. It’s worth it though, for the way Keith’s eyes darken with interest, so blatantly obvious that there’s no way he can deny it.

“Don’t hold back, I like it rough.” Lance whispers, winking at him. Keith blinks a few times, coming back to himself and debating the offer, and then steps closer. Lance’s eyes fall closed immediately, his jaw clenching in anticipation and anxiety alike as Keith moves toward him. 

He’s light on his feet. So light that Lance can only barely hear him approach, only has the vaguest understanding of how close he is until he’s leaned in near enough for those shallow breaths to wash over Lance’s pounding pulse point. He braces for it, for the pain, because no matter what Hunk says there’s  _ no way  _ it doesn’t hurt. Those fangs are fucking  _ huge _ .

The pain finds him, but not necessarily in the way he’d been prepared for.

Keith’s knee drives up between his legs, nailing Lance where it hurts the most and earning a yowl.

Lance doubles over immediately, his hands darting between his legs to squeeze himself and try to alleviate the pain. Keith sidesteps out of the way before Lance can faceplant into his chest, leaving him to hit the dirty concrete with yet another miserable groan. 

“Thought you liked it rough?” Keith sniffs, visibly struggling to reign in his sadistic smile.

“I meant you could bite me, idiot!” Lance shouts, glaring up at him through wet eyes, likely looking as pathetic as he feels right about then. He thought for certain that Keith would be on board, he hadn’t even _ entertained _ the possibility that Keith wouldn’t take him up on his oh so generous offer.

I mean, come on, Lance is offering him sustenance for free and what does he get out of this exchange?

Huh. Now that he’s thinking about it, Lance has to actually pick apart why he’d offered in the first place, and he has to admit that a part of him is undoubtedly disappointed that Keith hadn’t taken him on the offer. He wanted it. He _ wanted _ Keith to bite him. 

God, what’s  _ wrong  _ with him!?

“Yeah, no, I got that, trust me.” Keith says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not interested. Thanks anyway.”

With that, Keith turns on his heel and starts down the alley, an air of indifference hanging around him as he heads for the back door to the restaurant. He clearly considers the conversation closed.

Lance, however, does not.

“Like fuck you aren’t.” Lance shouts after him, staggering to his feet. He’s by Keith’s side in an instant, slamming the other boy up against the brick wall with a wolfish snarl. Keith actually flinches, and Lance manages to wipe the scowl from his face, but he still can’t bring himself to unwind his fingers from Keith’s uniform and let him  _ go _ . “You think I don’t notice? The blood red eyes and the fang-boners you pop whenever I put my hands on you? You’re not fucking subtle, Keith.”

For a moment, it almost seems like Keith is about to sock him with another punch to where the sun don’t shine, but he hesitates in the end. Instead, something smug unfolds across his face, like he’s finally caught on to the fact that this isn’t an argument. Lance isn’t even sure what it is anymore.

“Really? Because it seems to me like you’re the one begging for it right now.” Keith points out, leaning off the wall and closer to Lance, close enough that Lance sheepishly shifts away. “Have you been thinking about this for a while, hm? Does it keep you up at night, thoughts of me with strangers, sinking my teeth into them? Have you imagined what it’d be like, to submit to me and let me have my way with you?”

“This is  _ not  _ submission.” Lance snaps, tightening his grip on Keith’s shirt to the point of tearing it, his claws making an impromptu appearance without meaning to. Keith doesn’t look impressed, as he glances down at his torn shirt and then back up at Lance through the curtain of his long lashes.

Infuriatingly, the longer Lance spends staring at Keith this close up, the more he’s forced to catalogue all the blatantly attractive things about the man. Damn it. 

“No?” Keith tilts his head to the side, his smile unmistakably strained. “I may be the one pinned to the wall, but you’re the one who’s so desperate for it you won’t even let me walk away. Pretty sure you’re drooling, Lance, and you dare to say I’m the unsubtle one?”

Lance has to resist the strong urge to snap his teeth in Keith’s face, reeling his control in just in time.

He draws a heavy breath instead, steeling himself and shoving the wolf back down inside of him.

“You’re provoking the beast right now, Keith, I don’t think you _ realize _ what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Do  _ you _ ? I’ve never fed live before, I might not be able to _ stop myself _ once I start. I might suck you  _ dry _ .”

“Fuck.” Lance sighs. There’s really no denying it anymore, as heat pools through his gut. 

Lance wants to fuck his coworker. His obnoxious,  _ vampire  _ coworker. 

“Why?”

“ _ What _ ?”

“Why are you offering  _ now _ ? After months of working together? Is it because of that vamp girl Hunk’s seeing? Are you experimenting with some new fetish and I’m the first pair of fangs you thought of?”

Lance winces, off-put by Keith’s usual level of bluntness in a situation that feels so sensitive. 

Mostly because the truth of it is that it has very little to do with everything Hunk had said about the bite itself. It has a hell of a lot more to do with Keith _ himself _ , the knowledge that he’s been starving himself and withering away on that garbage for years, the understanding that Lance can offer him something so much better. If it were any other vampire, Lance wouldn’t think twice, wouldn’t even consider.

But it’s not any vampire, it’s  _ Keith _ . 

Keith needs him and for whatever fucking reason, Lance  _ wants _ to help him.

And yeah, maybe he’s totally getting off on the thought of it too, but only  _ because _ it’s Keith.

“Keith, I promise you, it’s better we don’t talk about it.”

“So it  _ is _ kinky.” Keith accuses, a lopsided grin worming its way across his face. Lance groans.

“Does it matter? Do you want to try real blood or not? This might be your only change to do it without risking killing someone. Unless you wanna go back to drinking that garbage?” Lance steps closer to him, tilts his head to the side invitingly. Keith’s gaze is heavy as it follows the movement. “It’s mutually beneficial, no matter what my  _ reasoning  _ is, we’re both getting something out of it. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Fine.” Keith deadpans, void of a single emotion. Hell, his face is so blank and his tone so flat, Lance has to wonder if he’s misheard him somehow. He blinks a few times, eyeing Keith and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or, more likely, for his other knee to hike up between Lance’s legs. 

It doesn’t happen. Keith just keeps standing there, Lance’s fist still gripping his shirt, his expression bored, like he’s waiting on Lance to do something. Lance swallows hard, nerves amounting suddenly.

“Fine? Like  _ fine _ -fine? So does that mean I should-”

“Oh my god, just shut the fuck up and give me room to work, damn it.”

Keith ducks forward in the same instant that Lance starts to tilt his head to the side to accommodate for him, immediately burying his face into the curve of Lance’s neck like he belongs there. There’s barely even any time to brace himself for it, Lance only just manages to clench his jaw and grit his teeth together when those sharp fangs pierce his skin for the very first time.

It’s remarkably… anticlimactic. 

At first, it’s just a pinch of pain, like every time he’s gotten a shot throughout his life but double. It’s not exactly what he was expecting, it doesn’t hurt, and it’s definitely not turning him on. But then something changes, as his blood starts to flow to the wound and Keith eagerly drinks it up, sucking hard against his neck while those fangs sink in just the slightest bit deeper...

The first wave of pleasure that hits him plows through his entire body, blinding in its intensity.

But it’s building, becoming something more and more, not entirely unlike an orgasm except it’s even more full-bodied. Lance swears he feels it in his toes, wonders if it’s even possibly for venom to spread that quickly or if he’s imagining it. Either way, he’s so high on sensation that he doesn’t care anymore.

“ _ Fuck, Keith _ .” It’s a breathy sigh, punched out of him without his permission, but Lance doesn’t have the wits about him to be embarrassed by how transparent it is.

After that, it sort-of plateaus at that same level, but Lance isn’t sure he could have handled it building steadily the entire time Keith fed. It’s not exactly a quick process, after all. Though Keith is eager, gulping down blood so hurriedly that Lance can hear the audible sound of him swallowing every few seconds, he shows no signs of slowing down as the seconds tick by. 

Distantly, Lance wonders if there’s even a threshold where a vampire gets “full” or if they could drink indefinitely, one person after another drained completely of blood. To be fair, right about now it’s not looking like such a bad way to go, as his cock fills out pathetically between his legs, with whatever blood he still has to spare. He really should be ashamed right now.

Keith isn’t gentle, but even still it isn’t painful with whatever venom he’s pumped Lance full of. He’s handsy too, clawing at Lance, trying to pull him in impossibly closer. It’s hard to focus on anything outside of the moment, of the feeling of Keith’s lips and tongue fitted to the curve of his neck, coaxing blood from the wounds he’d inflicted. 

Hell, if Lance closes his eyes, he can almost forget that Keith’s feeding from him at all.

Lance  _ does _ end up having to pry Keith off of him when he begins to feel faint. It proves to be a task easier said than done, even with his heightened strength on his side. Brute strength alone isn’t an answer when Keith is clinging to him like this, fangs still buried into his veins and sharp nails digging into the planes of his back, Lance would only hurt himself by forcing him off.

It ends up being a bit of a wrestling match, before Lance finally gets a hand around Keith’s neck and slams him back against the wall. The vampire has never looked quite so murderous, even with all they’ve been through. Keith looks _ livid _ , face screwed up in fury.

“ _ Mine _ .” Keith hisses, the words slurred around a literal mouthful of blood. Lance wonders distantly if he should feel more off-put by that fact than he is, but at the moment he only finds it strangely  _ endearing _ .

He reaches up to grab Keith’s jaw with his free hand, ignoring the snarl of warning it earns him, entirely too focused on the task at hand to be bothered by it.

Lance swipes his thumb through the mess of blood on Keith’s chin, trying in vain to clean up his disheveled appearance. The red streaks across his pale skin, cooling and tacky already, and Lance can only grin in answer. Keith stares back at him, pupils blown wide, fangs resting against his bottom lip in an adorable sort-of overbite.

Lance lessens his grip on Keith’s throat the slightest bit and immediately the vampire’s on him again, practically climbing him in his rush to dig in. Lance whimpers pathetically as Keith bites him on the opposite side of his neck, starting the entire process over again, body-shuddering pleasure and all.

“Hey, hey, gentle.” Lance grunts out, but it’s a lost cause. Keith is clambering to get closer to him, hands running over his sides, biting down hard into Lance’s flesh. It’s messier this time, Keith’s positioning must not be as calculated, because blood spills so heavily now that it leaks around his lips. Lance can feel it, coating his neck, dripping down to soak through the collar of his shirt. 

Lance reaches up, hand hovering over the back of Keith’s head, hesitation suddenly plaguing him now that he’s inches away from finally grabbing a handful of that damned mullet that’s haunted his dreams and nightmares alike for so very long. In the end, it’s less of a grab, more of a tender unrelenting grip that only grows tighter the more Keith fights it. 

Keith is hardly pleased. He makes loud verbal complaints even with his mouth full, clicking and hissing noises that grow in intensity the more Lance tugs on his hair. “You’re not even getting it all, you’re just making a mess of yourself. Back off and take a breather, I’m not going anywhere, there’s no rush.”

Lance can’t help but feel like he’s trying to reason with a wild animal at this point, as Keith gnaws on his neck, biting repeatedly as Lance pulls him backward. Anything, anywhere he can sink his teeth into, he does. Nevermind that he can’t linger long enough to actually drink. It does work to drown Lance in whatever venom he must give off, until Lance feels shivery and lightheaded, pleasure coursing through him thicker than his own blood.

Eventually, Lance manages to gather his willpower enough to wrench Keith fully away, pinning him to the wall once again. One hand wound through his hair, the other tightening around his throat. Keith is a far stretch from happy, but Lance’s head is still fuzzy and he doesn’t trust himself to stop Keith later.

“I’m gonna tear you apart and drink every last drop, you hear me? Let me go!” Keith thrashes against his hold, but Lance isn’t so out of it that he doesn’t know when to hold his ground. Eventually, Keith’s struggling filters out into whining and weak squirming. Still, Lance doesn’t let him go. “Just a little more?  _ Please _ ? It’s not enough, Lance, I’m  _ starving _ . I need it, I need you, please.”

“You’re being greedy.” Lance tells him, trying to hold firm even as he feels his restraint start to weaken under the weight of Keith’s wide, puppy-dog eyes blinking up at him. Fuck.

“But you’re  _ so _ strong, I’m sure you can take it.” Keith pleads, no doubt realizing that he’s making more leeway with begging than he ever could have hoped to with his tantrum from before. “You  _ can _ handle it, can’t you? Don’t tell me that a big, bad wolf like you can’t even handle a couple love bites? _ Pathetic _ .”

“You are so fucking infuriating.” Lance sighs, his grip finally relenting. Keith doesn’t immediately pounce on him again, instead he watches with wide predatory eyes, like he’s waiting for an in. 

Lance stares right back, never daring to take his eyes off of him. There’s a certain unnerving air around Keith right now, it errs on the same side of animalistic as Lance beneath the first streaks of moonlight filtering into the alley. Lance gets the uncanny feeling that he’s created a monster tonight.

Truth be told, it probably _ isn’t _ a good idea for the two of them to be so close right now. 

But Lance has no desire to be anywhere else, and it always gets hard to fight against his desires when the moon’s pulling him under. So, instead, he taunts. “I still don’t know if I want to fight or fuck you more.”

That gets Keith attention, seems to break him out of whatever bloodthirsty trance he’d been under.

“Wanna know a secret?” Keith asks then, the most lucid he’s been in the better part of ten minutes. It’s undoubtedly intriguing, and one of Lance’s eyebrows quirks toward his hairline in question. Keith steps closer, closer still, until his uncharacteristically warm breath is washing over the already-healing bites littered over Lance’s neck. Lance swallows hard. “I like it rough too, why choose between the two at all?”

“We shouldn’t do this here.” It’s a weak argument and Lance knows it, knows it especially well as he reaches down to readjust the obvious bulge visible in his trousers. Keith glances down between them to watch, zeroed in like a predator to prey all over again. “Keith, I’m serious, anyone could walk out right n-”

“I mean, I expected it to happen in the supplies closet, if anything the alley’s more private.”

“What? You _ expected _ this to happen?”

“Well, not the biting, I never in my life would have seen _ that  _ coming.” Keith admits, averting his eyes as casually as he can, shrugging his shoulders too. “But the rest of it? Lance, the amount of tension between us could have only ever ended in one of two ways. Either we were gonna kill each other or fuck it out. And I think we’d both be lying if we said this wasn’t always the preference, don’t you?”

“You  _ hate  _ me.” Lance deadpans, as if Keith’s somehow forgotten the fact. 

Keith eyes him curiously, a half-formed smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. He leans back against the brick wall again, swiping the back of his hand across his bloody chin, grin growing with each passing second that Lance spends openly gaping at him in shock.

“Yeah, but  _ unfortunately _ , that doesn’t make you any less hot.” Keith concludes finally, with a sense of finality that really doesn’t leave much room for argument. Lance’s jaw snaps back into place as he takes a long moment to ponder that particular confession. “So, are we doing this or what?”

“ _ Here _ ?” Lance squeaks nervously, glancing toward the door. 

He can’t deny the way the risk gets his blood pumping though, the thought of claiming Keith in such a public place speaking wonders to his wolf, no matter how he tries to repress it. He’s preening inside that Keith would want him at all, let alone here, out in the open where anyone could see it.

“Yes, here.” Keith grits out, impatience growing with each passing second. He pushes off from the wall, drops a hand between them squeezes Lance through his jeans. Lance chokes on his own tongue, hips bucking forward into the warm touch immediately. “Come on, Lance, haven’t you left me waiting long enough?  _ Fuck me _ . Take all those pent up and repressed emotions out on me. Make me your  _ bitch _ .”

It’s a unique ego trip, to have Keith come out and ask him for it. Even now, Lance’s hindbrain is preening at having the upper hand in their rivalry. He’s not sure this counts as strict rivalry territory anymore, but he wants it too badly to really question it. Especially when Keith says it like _ that _ , like he’s a thing to  _ own _ .

It’s not exactly news to Lance that his wolf is possessive, but it never fails to catch him off guard just how extensive that urge is. It’s a fierce sort-of desire and Keith playing into it is doing  _ nothing  _ to calm it.

“Come on.” Lance huffs, grabbing Keith’s wrist and dragging him from the alley with an ironclad grip. In a surprising show of faith, Keith doesn’t complain once on the trip around the building, to the crowded tiny parking lot where all the employees leave their vehicles. It’s hardly private, with apartments overlooking and an open street on one end, but at least Lance parked in the most shadowed back corner of the lot when he came in for his shift today.

Beside him, Keith is practically vibrating with anticipation, or perhaps with the amount of fresh blood in his system for once. When Lance reaches his car, he leans against it and starts shrugging his jacket off, all while Keith watches avidly. “Get in the backseat. I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Mm, look who’s getting all bossy on me now.” Keith jokes, wrenching open the back door, but still lingering as Lance starts to unbutton his jeans. It’s hell trying to shrug them down his long legs in the backseat of a car, so he might as well undress halfway beforehand. If he’s gonna get fired from his job for this, he’s pretty sure he’s already crossed whatever imaginary line he was meant to avoid.

“Not bossy.” Lance argues, gritting his teeth in concentration as he wiggles his pants down his legs. He looks toward Keith. “We’re on a time limit, if you wanna get fucked then now isn’t the time to tease.”

Realization dawns on Keith’s features quickly, a sinking sense of understanding mixed with pity that almost kills the mood entirely. Lance didn’t want his pity when they were enemies and he sure as hell doesn’t want it now. Being a werewolf isn’t all bad, it’s certainly better than being doomed to be a vampire for all eternity, but something about the whole shifting thing never fails to disturb people.

Even now, an hour off from his transformation, Lance wouldn’t say he feels  _ bad _ .

He’s on edge, a little more sensitive and volatile than usual, and there’s an uncanny amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins that no amount of angry sex in the backseat of a car could ever truly snuff out… but for the most part, he’s alright. He isn’t consumed with a terrible sense of dread like everyone expects him to be. Sure, the transformation is painful, but you learn to live with it. You have to.

Still, it works to send Keith rushing into the backseat, clambering across worn leather like he belongs there, like he’s been there a hundred times before. Lance is left wondering now if this could have happened a hundred times by now, if only he’d paid more attention to the things Keith said and did.

“How much time do we have left?” Keith asks from inside the car, stripping his ruined work shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere. Lance climbs into the backseat after him then, trying to give him room to work as he pulls those stretchy black leggings down his thighs. It’s a startling test in self-restraint to keep from interrupting to _ touch  _ the moment all that pale skin becomes available to him.

“An hour, give or take.” Lance answers, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from pouncing once Keith’s left in nothing but a pair of faded black boxer-briefs. “Fuck, _ look at you _ .”

Lance is crowded up against one side of the car with Keith lounging against the opposite door, legs already spread and bulge on clear display. He’s the picture of inviting, eyes dark as he tries to beckon Lance up the line of his body without the use of words. 

And god, when he drops a hand between his own legs and palms at himself, shaky and hurried like he simply can’t fight the urge… Lance nearly bites right through his own bottom lip in one smooth chomp.

“Well?” Keith blinks over at him, somehow managing to look petulant even with a hand groping at his cock. “Are you gonna spend all night admiring or are you gonna get your ass over here and show me what you’re good for? Clearly your strongsuit isn’t picking up on social cues. Am I gonna need to tell you what to do  _ all  _ night or can I expect you to catch on eventually?”

“I’ll move at whatever pace I like, thanks, and  _ you’ll  _ take what I give you.” Lance growls out, but even as he says it he finds himself crawling across the seat until he’s leaning over Keith’s body, settled between those widespread thighs exactly like he’d been asked to. 

“And if I  _ don’t _ ?” Keith grins.

“Good to see you’re consistently a brat, no matter what we’re doing.” Lance muses, giving him a playful slap to the side of the thigh, mostly to get him to move further back on the seat. The reaction Keith gives is an unexpected one, tensing up and sucking in a breath like he’s been seriously struck. 

For a moment, Lance worries he’s underestimated his strength the night of the full moon, but that doesn’t add up. If Keith were a human, maybe, but Keith’s pain threshold as a vampire is through the roof. He can handle actual stabbings and broken bones without a wince, a halfhearted slap like that can’t really hurt him much. Given that understanding… maybe it wasn’t  _ pain  _ at all that had him reacting.

Lance smirks, leaning back on his haunches and gripping Keith’s hips, effortlessly flipping him over onto his stomach. Keith grumbles, but he doesn’t really protest, and he doesn’t struggle at all as Lance maneuvers his hips up into the air and forces him to present himself. 

Slowly, teasingly, Lance drags Keith’s underwear down over the swell of his ass.

And fuck, what an ass it is.

All soft and supple in its curves, round and perky and just the right size to grab a couple hearty handfuls of. Lance is tempted to lean forward and sink his teeth into one of those sweet cheeks, to leave his mark behind in the plainest of ways. He fights that temptation though, reminding himself why he finds himself in this position, Keith’s ass arched up toward him almost like he’s anticipating it just as much. 

Wordlessly, Lance rears his hand back and brings it forward, his palm colliding with Keith’s ass in a harsh resounding slap. Keith gives a choked noise like he’s been stabbed (Lance would know, after all) and then collapses down against the seat, all but melting into the black of the leather. And oh, Lance can see the reddening outline of his handprint across that gorgeous ass.

“You like that?” Lance asks, unable to bite back the snickering laugh that follows.

“Fuck off.” Keith snaps, stiffening back up at the first sign of mockery.

Lance responds in kind by slapping him again, harder this time, hard enough to make him jolt forward on the seat and try to evade it. Lance grins wickedly, following after him with a wolfish grin.

“You like having your pretty little ass spanked, baby?” Lance taunts, halfway between cruel and coddling, gentle with an air of mischief that’s impossible to miss. Keith grumbles under his breath, but Lance cuts him off with another spank, watching the way his ass jiggles afterward. This time, Keith lets something akin to a whimper slip past his lips, and that’s all the encouragement Lance needs.

He does it again, and again, and again. He doesn’t stop when Keith grumbles petulantly, he doesn’t stop when the complaints filter out into breathy whimpers and gasps, and he certainly doesn’t stop when Keith starts to moan with each smack to his ass. Between his legs, Lance can see his cock, hanging heavy and full, drooling pre-cum across the seats. 

If Lance was on an ego trip before, he’s not sure what to call _ this _ . “Poor thing, none of the humans you hook up with can give it to you hard enough, can they? You’ve been missing out.”

“Lance.” Keith grunts out eventually, reaching back to weakly swat Lance’s hand away, propping himself up on his hands and knees again. Lance relents finally, giving him a moment’s reprieve. It’s worth it too, when Keith looks back at him over his shoulder, eyes wet and wide. “Please. I  _ need _ it.”

“No, I think I’ll take my time back here.” Lance answers, smirking wickedly as he spanks him once more, just to add a final handprint to the many littered across his skin. After that, he reaches into the center console and pulls out a bottle of lube, ignoring the huff of laughter that Keith lets out. 

Generously coating his fingers in the viscous liquid, Lance admires the sight of Keith slumped over in his backseat, already looking thoroughly used. “Can’t wait to ruin you with my cock. You’ll never be satisfied with anyone else again, you’re gonna come crawling back to me, begging for it.”

“Wish you’d stop talking and actually  _ do it _ .” Keith huffs. “All bark and no bite, aren’t you?”

“Shut-up.” Lance chastises him, a smile stretched across his face no matter how he tries to school his features back into indifference. He reaches down and traces a finger around the rim of Keith’s hole, stifling a laugh when Keith immediately presses back into it. 

He gives in quickly, deciding that even he’s tired of the teasing. There’s something about seeing Keith all needy and shameless, it has all of Lance’s own walls crumbling down too. 

Lance goes achingly slow with the first two fingers, pressing them deep inside of Keith and stretching them apart, making sure he’s thoroughly prepped for what comes next. Lance knows he isn’t small, that he borders on big enough to be daunting for most human partners. Factor in the fact that he’s a shower  _ and  _ a grower during this time of the month… well, it’s probably for the best that Keith has super-healing and a thing for pain. 

Three fingers in and Keith gets genuinely annoyed with the gentle way Lance has been working him open. By now, there’s so much lube coating his skin that there’s a sheen shining across his taint and balls, and Lance can admit he might be going a little overkill with it. Still, can anyone blame him for basking in this moment? Keith laying out beneath him, languid and comfortable, not an ounce of red in those deep purple eyes. 

Up until this moment, Lance was never confident that he even knew the color of Keith’s eyes.

Keith chooses that moment to blink back into focus and look at Lance directly, radiating smugness at catching him staring so blatantly. He looks like he’s about to make a snide comment about it too, but Lance hitches his fingers inside of him just right and whatever choice words he’d been about to share are very quickly forgotten. 

“Fuck!” Keith practically shouts in the small space, the curse torn from his throat.

“You make such pretty noises, baby, listen to you sing for me.” Lance muses, zeroing in on that same spot and rubbing his fingers back and forth over it, slipping a fourth past Keith’s rim alongside the others. It’s better to be over-prepared than under. Keith will thank him later, he’s sure of it. “Just wait until I start fucking you for real, I bet they’ll hear us from inside the restaurant.”

Lance half-expects Keith to argue, or get flustered at the thought of their coworkers finding them out, like this is all some dirty secret acted out in the heat of the moment. Strangely, he doesn’t even react.

“Hurry up, I can take it.” Keith says instead, rocking back against his hand.

“Can you? Are you sure?” Lance teases, mostly because he can’t help himself, it slips past his lips unbidden when the entire foundation of their relationship is built on that same playful give and take. 

“I swear to god, Lance, if you don’t put your dick in me right now I’m going to find someone else to f-”

“Alright, alright.” Lance laughs to himself, pulling his fingers free and wiping the excess lube on whatever discarded article of clothing he picked up off the floor first. He thinks it might be Keith’s shirt. Giving it a moment’s consideration, he tosses it up toward Keith’s head. “You might wanna bite down on this, I’m not  _ saying _ you’re a screamer, but I doubt you’re quiet when you’re so fucking mouthy any other time.”

“God, why am I attracted to you?” Keith mutters, shaking his head.

“Rude!”

“Explain it to me,  _ please _ . Tell me you have animal pheromones or something, literally anything, to justify why this is happening right now.” Keith sighs, looking skyward at the ceiling of the car and no doubt noticing the questionable stains on the headliner. Lance doesn’t offer an explanation, he’s a little caught up in his feelings, oddly offended that Keith is gonna pretend that he doesn’t want this  _ now _ .

It’s not like he can really deny it, he climbed into this car and stripped his clothes off willingly, he’s been begging for it for the better part of ten minutes while Lance stretched him out. 

With an indignant little huff, Lance reaches down to take his boxers off. 

He pulls them down his legs with little finesse and when Keith tries to look back at him and watch, Lance gets a hand between his shoulders and pushes him back down into the seat. Keith grumbles, but he goes willingly, even arching his back so Lance has better access to his dripping lube-soaked hole.

He makes a pretty sight like that, as Lance pumps his cock a few times and gets it slicked from base to tip.

Lance doesn’t bother to give him a heads up or a warning of any sort, figures that after demanding it for so long Keith  _ must  _ be ready. He just shuffles forward and presses the head of his cock to Keith’s cute fluttering rim, grins something wicked to himself as he thrusts hard and sinks half of his cock in at once.

It’s a wonder he got offended at all when Lance’s prediction was so spot-on… he’s _ definitely _ a screamer. 

“How’s that for a reminder?” Lance jokes, flexing his hips forward, sinking inside another inch. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. There’s no way your dick is that big.” Keith gasps out the moment his shout has stopped ringing in the air, sucking in heavy breaths like he’s at risk of suffocating. Lance eases up on pinning him in place, smooths his hands down his sides and holds his hips steady while he forces more of his length inside.

“What? Don’t think you can handle it now that you’re finally getting it?”

“No, fuck, it feels _ good _ .” Keith corrects hurriedly, pushing back into it and taking Lance deeper, chasing away any apprehension Lance might have been feeling about his quick pace. Keith is definitely into it, even as he grows loud and flustered with it, muffled gasps and grunts as he writhes back against Lance’s hips in an effort to bottom him out. “I just never would have guessed you had something to show for that huge ego of yours. If I’d only known you were packing _ this  _ all that time…”

“Asshole.” Lance sinks forward again as he says it, finally bottoming out with his hips flush against Keith’s round ass. Keith groans, a deep guttural sound of satisfaction, his eyelids fluttering. Entirely too satisfied.

“Yes, that’s it, fuck me  _ hard _ . I want it.” Keith taunts easily, pushing back against him and fucking himself back on Lance’s cock, completely forgoing the break Lance had offered him to adjust. With a quirked eyebrow, intrigued by Keith’s impatience, Lance snaps his hips forward in a short, powerful thrust.

Keith is tight inside, so much so that Lance can’t help the lingering concern that haunts him worrying that he’s moving too quickly, but Keith doesn’t show a single sign of discomfort. He’s as impatient as ever, up on his hands and knees so he can work his hips back against Lance and spur him on. Grinning and blushing, looking back over his shoulder with bright eager eyes.

So, without further ado, Lance starts up a steady rhythm of fucking into the warm hold of his body.

And, like clockwork, Keith’s volume rockets with each sound Lance’s cock punches out of him.

“Ohh, god, yes! That’s it, fuckin’ _ finally _ , just like that!” 

Lance crowds over Keith’s back, burying his face between his shoulder blades and panting as he humps into the body writhing beneath him. Fuck, he’s so _ loud _ , there’s not a moment of silence between Keith’s stuttering praise and taunts, constantly begging for  _ more _ and _ harder. _ He’s insatiable, impossible to please, and Lance really shouldn’t find that as endearing as he does.

It inspires him to be better, the same way their rivalry had always pushed him to prove himself, now his sole goal is to impress Keith. A distant part of him is already hoping that they’ll have the opportunity to do this again, that he can earn that opportunity.

He fucks Keith hard, hard enough to send the car rocking, hard enough to have Keith collapsing into the leather and rubbing his cheek against it each time another thrust pushes him forward.

God, the noises he makes, all drawn-out and needy, punched out of the deepest part of his throat when Lance’s cock fills him again. To an unknowing ear, it’d sound pained, the way Keith cries his name over and over again, begging for mercy from the ruthless plowing while not really wanting him to stop at all.

“You like that,  _ bitch _ ?” Lance coos, nuzzling the nape of Keith’s neck, burying his face into the dark hair curling there with sweat. He inhales deeply, drowning in the thick cloying scent of Keith’s arousal. Keith  _ wails _ at the shift in angle and Lance zeroes in, hitting the same spot over and over again. “Listen to you, they definitely know you’re getting fucked now. Can’t even close your mouth, can you? You’re  _ drooling _ for it, like a  _ dog _ . You think you’re so much better than me but look at you now, reduced to a plaything, a willing hole for my cock to use.”

Keith squirms, trying to shift away from the constant onslaught of pressure against his prostate. Lance responds in kind by following after him, gripping his hips and sinking his sharpened nails into soft flesh, successfully pinning him in place and making sure he takes the full brunt of each brutal thrust.

He can hear it, the wet squelch of lube each time Lance’s cock plows its way inside again, the audible slap of skin against skin as his balls hit Keith’s taint. Sex has never felt quite like this, so intense and ferocious, like the animal in Lance has taken over the reigns from the man. He’d never allow himself to let go of his control with anyone else, would be too worried about hurting them. 

But Keith? Keith is thriving. He’s in his element. Even as he gasps and chokes and tears slip down his cheeks in overstimulation… he keeps lifting those supple hips up into it.

It’s only after a few minutes of relentlessly pounding into him that Keith starts to shift around again, visibly growing uncomfortable, his breath a hitching unstable pattern in his chest. Lance knows what’s happening even before Keith says a word, can feel it in how he clenches down around Lance’s cock each time he tries to pull back, trying to chase the sensation just a little longer, just a little more...

“L-Lance, it’s too much, I’m  _ close _ , I can’t-”

“You gonna come, Keith? Barely five minutes into it and you’re trying to tap out? After rushing me this whole time, you can’t take what you were begging for?” Lance coos, reaching up to grab a handful of Keith’s mop-like hair and dragging his head up into the air again. “Gonna come all over yourself and make a mess of my car?  _ Really _ ?  _ Already _ ? Is it  _ that  _ good?”

“Lance, please, I can’t  _ help it _ .” Keith gasps out, clawing at the seats, and though he seems a little too far gone to notice it right now, Lance definitely takes note of the way those claws drag right through the leather and leave fine scratches everywhere. Lance doesn’t even care, he’s too caught up in the broken way Keith is trying to negotiate with him. “Can I please? Oh, fuck, Lance, I _ can’t _ . I have to come. I need-”

“I never said you couldn’t, but it’s cute that you were waiting for permission.” Lance points out, silently impressed by how he manages to hide his own labored breathing. He’d be getting close too, normally, after keeping up this rugged pace for so long. As it is, he’s barely breaking a sweat, the moon keeping him pulsing with adrenaline. He could go at it for hours.

He feels keen on informing Keith of that fact, too.

Lance leans over Keith to whisper in his ear again, reaching down to land a flimsy halfhearted spank to the meat of his ass, relishing the way Keith’s entire body shivers in response. “Go ahead, but I’m not stopping, not until I fill you up like you deserve. Wanna leave my mark on you, seems only fair given the state of my neck right now. You bite me, I breed you full and leave you dripping, everyone will know who you belong to.”

“You’re gonna  _ kill  _ me.” Keith chokes out, but he’s unmistakably amused.

In a surprising turn of events, Keith turns his head to the side quick and presses a sloppy kiss to Lance’s cheek. He starts giggling before he’s even finished, nuzzling against the thin scruff along Lance’s jawline, a 5 o’clock shadow since shaving this morning. He’s giddy with it, lost to the moment, and Lance is horrifically fond of this new side of Keith he’s seeing.

“You’re already dead, you can take it.” Lance jokes, gripping Keith’s thigh and pulling it aside, forcing him to spread his legs wider so Lance can fill the newfound space. He shifts closer, presses his cock even deeper with the new angle, using his grip on Keith’s hips as leverage. He pistons his hips into him in quick, staccato snaps that leave Keith’s ass bouncing against his lap.

“I can’t, I can’t take it, fuck, Lance, slow down, I can’t  _ breathe _ .”

“You don’t need to breathe, it’s just a habit, remember?” Lance reminds him, running a fingertip down the defined notches of his spine, caressing the soft skin at the base of his tailbone while he keeps fucking him into the soft cushioning beneath him. “That’s it, sweetheart, let go. I’ll take care of you.”

Lance is _ painstakingly  _ aware the very moment Keith’s orgasm hits him. 

He goes rigid beneath him, sucking in a breath and holding it there, heavy and full in his chest.

His body clamps down around Lance, squeezing his cock in a vise-like hold that has his flawless rhythm startling to a stop. 

And finally, it’s the distinct sound of shredding leather that gives it away before anything else clicks into place for him. Lance watches in equal parts horror and fondness as Keith throws his head back and keens into the cool night air, hands flying out for support. Long, thin, unmistakable claw marks stretch across the entire backseat as Keith writhes against Lance’s cock, whimpering as he spills beneath himself. 

_ Untouched. _

Lance licks his lips, rightfully speechless, his heart pounding in his chest with something that isn’t just adrenaline anymore. God, he wants this idiot in the backseat of his car every night of the week, even if his seats won’t live to see it happen. Keith is gorgeous like this, like something out of a timeless painting, a muse beyond measure. Lance is pretty damn sure it’s not the moon talking when he says he feels a little bit of love blossoming in his chest right then and there.

A few seconds later and Keith lifts his head, clumsily brushing away all the hair that’d fallen into his eyes and finally registering the massacred state of the leather beneath him. He sucks in a harsh breath, going tense all over again for completely different reasons, like he can’t feel how hard Lance is inside of him right now and guess for himself that the mood is far from ruined.

“Fuck, Lance, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t-”

“It’s fine, Keith, I don’t give a shit.” Lance tells him hurriedly, resisting the strong urge to start fucking him again, deciding that he deserves a moment’s reprieve at least. No matter what the wolf inside of him has to say about it… urging him to take and mount, to finish the job it started. 

“But your seats-”

“It was hot.” Lance shrugs, watching as Keith looks back at him in disbelief. He’s adorably flushed, fresh-blood still pumping through his veins, he looks remarkably human in this context. Except for those two fangs poking out from his top lip, no doubt having made an appearance at the height of his ecstasy. 

“Yeah?”

“You’re hot.” Lance continues then, gently rocking his hips forward. It’s not really encouraging when Keith’s immediate reaction is to flinch and try to squirm away. “Aw, come on, Keith, don’t tell me you’re done already? After just one orgasm? You and I both know I can do better than that… if you let me.”

“Oh fuck, no, nope. Too much too fast, I need at  _ least  _ five minutes to recover after that.” Keith insists, but he stops shifting despite himself, long before Lance’s cock slips out of him. Lance sighs, reaching down to run his hand over the part of his cock no longer buried inside Keith’s heat, massaging the barely-there bulge at the base between his pointer finger and thumb. 

Fuck, it takes everything in him not to mindlessly rut forward at the first pressure against his knot.

Not trusting himself to set the pace anymore and not rush Keith into anything, Lance abruptly pulls out and flops back against the seat with a heavy sigh. Keith is noticeably displeased, as he sits upright and gapes at him, looking woefully betrayed. Lance takes one look at his slack-jawed stupid expression nd laughs, patting his bare thighs to beckon him over.

“Come here.” Lance says, watching avidly as Keith’s eyes light up with understanding.

In an instant, he’s clambering around to settle in Lance’s lap, sinking down on his hard cock with a relieved sigh like the moments without it had been torture. Lance tips his head back against the headrest, groaning deep in his throat, unable to stop himself from bucking up into it. 

He closes his eyes, trying in vain to calm himself down when the moon is directly overhead, full and bright.

“Didn’t expect you to request a position where you could see my face.”

“It’ll be more comfortable in the long run.” Lance mutters, half mindless with the pressure of Keith’s weight sitting on his knot, already imagining what it’ll feel like once it’s fully-formed and buried inside of Keith to the hilt. “Besides, you have a nice face. It’s not exactly a hardship to look at it.”

“Keep it up and I’m gonna get some wild ideas in my head.” 

“ _ Like _ ?” Lance asks, cracking an eye open in question.

“Like  _ this _ .” Keith tells him, settling his soft hands on either side of Lance’s face and holding him steady. It doesn’t set off warning alarms in Lance’s mind to be clasped between those powerful hands. He’s still just as effortlessly relaxed, especially when Keith leans forward and presses their lips together.

Keith is nervous, that much is painstakingly obvious, almost like he still expects a negative reaction after all they’ve done tonight. He brushes his lips against Lance’s like he expects to be pushed away at any second, gentle and comforting, a promise of more if Lance happens to ask for it.

Lance doesn’t ask for it.

He _ takes _ it.

He reaches up and fits a hand around the back of Keith’s neck, pulling him back in for more the moment he tries to pull away. Keith bounces back eagerly, responding in kind when Lance licks into his mouth and deepens the kiss. From then on, they’re back into familiar territory, as that same low-burning passion that fuels their fighting fuels the kiss. It’s heated and rough, a clumsy overeager slide of tongue against tongue, their bodies subconsciously rocking together and seeking out more pleasure.

When they finally break apart, Keith’s fangs are heavy in his own mouth and Lance is certain his knot has grown enough to be noticeable. Still, Keith seems a little too distracted to notice the pressure.

He’s pulled back now, leaning back to make eye contact while he runs his fingertips across his lips, like he can’t believe what just happened. It makes Lance desperately want to kiss him again. 

“Was that okay?” 

“More than okay.” Lance insists, leaning forward to give him a quick reassuring peck, just for good measure so he isn’t left questioning their new boundaries. “Fuck, baby, can I move now? Ready?”

“I don’t know, you’re hardly in the position to be doing any moving.” Keith responds, a devious grin curling the corners of his lips. Then, as if to emphasize his point, Keith lifts his weight up and drops it back down all at once, sinking down on Lance’s cock to the root. That growing knot slips inside of him with little resistance, Keith not even noticing the difference yet, but to Lance it’s monumental.

He curses, his hand flying out to brace himself against the window, leaving a blatant print in the mess of steam fogging up the windows from their breath. Keith looks entirely too pleased with himself. Lance is too far gone for him to even call him out on the smugness in his expression, it’s all he can do to grin dopily back at him in encouragement.

“Yes, fuck, that’s it. Just like that, ride me. Bounce on my cock and show me how it’s done.”

“Shut-up.” Keith huffs, visibly embarrassed by the praise. “Keep saying shit like that and at this rate I’m gonna go a second time before you’ve even come once. What do you need? How can I get you there?”

“You can’t.” Lance says, immediately regretting it when confusion swamps the confidence in Keith’s easy smirk. Lance leans forward, pressing their foreheads together, breathing heavily. “Sorry. It’s a full moon thing. It’s not really the kind-of thing you can force to happen, no matter how tempting the offer.”

“Oh? The moon gives you crazy sex stamina?” Keith quirks a brow, lifting himself up and sinking back down, starting to work himself over Lance’s cock with practiced ease. Lance wonders how many other men he’s done this with, settled in their lap and riding their cock, and the sheer possessiveness that sinks through him in answer makes him feel sick.

“Not exactly, no, more like the moon makes it a little harder to _ get _ to that point.”

“What, why?” Keith freezes then, eyes wide. “Has your transformation started already? Is it hurting you, is that the problem? Please tell me you’re not feeling more pain than pleasure right now because I’d feel pretty fucking guilty about using you as a living dildo for the past twenty minutes.”

“No, fuck no, that’s not it. It definitely feels good.” Lance insists, hurried, hands settling on Keith’s hips and dragging him back down onto his cock. Keith goes willingly, still doesn’t notice when Lance’s steadily growing knot stretches him just that slightest bit wider and pops inside again. “Feels  _ r-really  _ good.” 

“Then what’s the problem?” Keith pries, but he’s smiling now at least, as he gyrates his hips against Lance with a familiarity that feels deadly. The way he grinds his body down against Lance’s cock should be a crime, all sinuous slow shifts and rolling movements, practiced like a dance. Lance wants to devour him  _ whole _ , as he leans forward and buries his face into his collarbones.

“Probably easier to show you than explain, that’s why I didn’t bring it up before now. I’m getting close now though and then you’ll see.” Lance admits, biting his bottom lip. 

He’s trying to hold back, trying not to let it show just how much the combination of the moon and his growing knot is messing with his self-control, but it’s quickly waning away to a thin thread bound to snap. Every part of him is demanding that he flips Keith over and pins him, mounts him from behind and forces his knot into him over and over again, until it’s too swollen to come back out.

“Yeah? Should I be worried?” Keith chuckles, noticeably tense. “You’re not gonna go feral on me, right?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Are you… sure? You’re looking a little wolfy right now.” Keith offers, pointing awkwardly to Lance’s eyes, no doubt glowing an unfamiliar golden by now. Lance can feel the canine-like fangs in his own mouth, can feel how tense his body is as it prepares for its incoming transformation. But more important than any of that, is the way his knot is growing, already buried inside of Keith where he sits unknowingly in Lance’s lap. Oblivious. 

“I’m fine.” Lance insists, shifting impatiently, waiting on Keith to move. “Come on, don’t stop now, I’m-” 

“I know, I know, I’ve got it.” Keith laughs, picking himself up again to start up a steady pace of riding Lance’s cock. He hesitates immediately though, noticing the resistance against his rim as Lance’s knot eventually slips out this time. Slowly, like he doesn’t believe what he’s looking at, Keith pulls off and shuffles backward on Lance’s knees, settles there to stare.

Lance bites down hard on his tongue to keep from verbally voicing his disappointment. Keith is more than entitled to asking questions and familiarizing himself with Lance’s current equipment.

Lance is expecting a hesitant request for answers, he’s not expecting Keith to immediately reach down and fit his fist around Lance’s knot and attempt to learn the hands-on way. 

It’s barely half-formed yet and Keith’s hand easily engulfs it, and Lance damn near  _ howls _ when he squeezes around it in curiosity. As it is, his hands fly out and add new scratches to the leather.

“Fuck! Keith, hurry up, stop messing around. I need it  _ inside _ .” Lance pleads wantonly, barely aware of the words leaving his lips as he sluggishly speaks them. Then, because Keith’s a raging asshole, he just squeezes Lance’s knot in his fist _ again _ to garner another reaction.

And react Lance does, spasming under Keith and bucking up into the touch, clumsily seeking out Keith’s shoulder and sinking his teeth into it. Keith gasps above him and winces in pain, but he doesn’t attempt to pull away from it, even as he slowly unfolds his fingers from Lance’s knot and lets go.

“Holy shit.” Keith laughs, when Lance finally gets his wits about him enough to unlatch his jaw and gingerly lap at the wound, feeling apologetic and beyond words. “Wow, uh, wasn’t expecting that. Hah, oh my god, you’re… you… you have a-”

“A knot, yeah.” Lance manages. “Certain changes come quicker than others with the transformation.”

“Like, a couple hours quicker _ or _ ?”

“It’s like this the entire final week.” Lance explains, just a hint of frustration audible behind the words as he fights the strong urge to grind against the nearest surface to seek out his pleasure. Keith looks like he’s still processing though, eyes wide with consideration. Finally, Lance huffs out a sigh, prepared to make a great sacrifice for Keith’s sake. “I can pull out when I finish, if you’re more comfortable with th-”

“Fuck no, I definitely want it inside me.” Keith blurts, eyes widening even further like he’s surprised himself with his own boldness. “I mean, I just… I’m shocked, but I can take one for the team if I need to.”

“Thank god. I wasn’t really sure if I’d be able to pull out now or not.” 

“Jackass. Why’d you even offer then?” Keith scoffs, Above him, Keith has a determined little pout on his lips, as he picks himself up on his knees and leads the dripping head of Lance’s cock to his entrance.

“I was being _ courteous _ .”

“Ooh, I’m so impressed, what a gentleman.” Keith jokes, sinking down on his cock, only stopping when he reaches the knot. A flash of apprehension flickers across his face then, and even after the expression passes, he still doesn’t attempt to take Lance’s cock any deeper.

“Shut-up.” Lance tells him then, retaliating by bucking up against him, grinding his swollen knot against his rim just to test the waters. There’s barely any give, Keith’s body clenched down tight around the rest of Lance’s cock. He’s not sure whether to be disappointed or excited, thinking about how very tightly Keith’s insides will hug him once he finally pushes it inside. 

Keith has gone uncharacteristically silent above him, as Lance undulates his hips against him, grinding his knot against where he’s splitting his body open wide on his cock. He can feel how Keith’s body is struggling to take it, tight muscles flexing against the intrusion, inadvertently massaging the sensitive bulge. Lance isn’t sure anymore if the slickness between them is still lube or if it’s the sheer amount of pre-cum he’s leaking inside of Keith finding its way out, without a plug to keep it inside.

With a grunt, Lance grips Keith’s hips and rolls them forward, Keith’s back hitting the seat with a gentle thud. Lance follows suit without ever slipping out of his body, falling between his widespread legs and bucking forward immediately from the new angle. This time, Keith’s body stretches wide enough that Lance is sure he’s gonna be able to push his knot fully inside, only for Keith’s body to force him back out at the widest stretch. 

Nevermind that his knot is still growing, actively aching and pulsing the longer he goes without burying it inside of something, craving the relief that comes with the constricting tightness milking him for his come. It’s been a long time since he’s done this with a partner and as much as he’s fully capable of using his hand if he has to, it doesn’t really  _ compare _ .

And Keith wants it, even through the nervousness in his eyes and the tension in his body, Lance can see the desire pooling there. He definitely doesn’t miss Keith’s cock standing tall and proud against his stomach now that they’ve switched positions, bringing it front and center in Lance’s line of sight.

Curiously, when his repetitive rutting gets him nowhere, Lance reaches down to grope at Keith’s cock.

Keith moans, wrapping his thighs tighter around Lance’s waist, pulling him in as if to take him deeper only to give a frustrated huff when the knot stops him from bottoming out again. Still, Lance works his cock in his palm, jerking him off with certain slow strokes. He even stops to spit down onto the head of Keith’s cock, rubbing his thumb through the mess of it and then spreading it down his entire length in a shining thin sheen of saliva. 

“O-Oh, Lance, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come ag-” 

“Not yet.” Lance growls out, immediately dropping his hand and glaring at Keith. “Wait for it. My knot.”

“It’s not gonna fit.” Keith huffs then, as Lance goes back to grinding against him. He starts a steady pace of it, fucking the remaining length of his cock into Keith’s body, each thrust sending his knot pounding back against that tight unforgiving little rim of his hole. Keith whines. “It’s too big.”

“It’ll fit. You can take it, just relax for me.” Lance insists, eyebrows furrowing together in concentration as he grabs for the lube again. He’s sloppy with it now, as he coats his fingers and then reaches down, easing one in alongside his cock. Keith’s breathing hitches, but otherwise he says nothing, actively working to relax against the added stretch. 

They’re working against the clock now, as Lance’s knot continues to grow. He hastily stretches Keith open on another finger, two slipped in alongside his cock and trembling with anticipation as they slick the entire space with lube so heavily that it’s a struggle to keep them inside. He pulls them free a moment later, wiping them against Keith’s thigh and then immediately going back to the task at hand.

“Spread your legs more.” Lance demands, to which Keith immediately listens, throwing his legs open wide and letting Lance fill the space between them. He bears his knot down against Keith’s rim again and this time there’s give behind the tight ring of muscle, just enough for Lance’s hindbrain to take the reins and start urging him forward. 

He ruts against Keith eagerly, a single minded focus taking over.

He’s leant over him, damp hair falling in his eyes and tongue poking out between sharp teeth, and if he had a tail he’s sure it’d be wagging excitedly behind him as Keith’s body slowly relents against the pressure and he eases deeper with each grind of his hips. “Come on, Keith, let me  _ in _ . I know you want it, now be a good little bitch and show me how much.”

“Fuck.” Keith curses, reaching down to squeeze his own cock, staving off his orgasm as best he can. 

“I think it’s going now, relax, there you go. I’m almost in, I-” Lance talks his way through it, uselessly rambling, his voice a grating grumble of sorts as he fights with the wolf’s subconscious demands to take ruthlessly and deal with the consequences later. He tries his very best to be gentle about it, but there’s only so much gentleness allowed in the act of knotting someone when the very purpose is to fill them beyond their limits and keep them plugged full of your spend.

When it finally pops inside fully, Keith’s legs kick out uselessly on either side of Lance, the prettiest cry spilling from his bitten-red blood-covered lips.

And Lance? He’s  _ gone _ , lost to it, his mind wiped blissfully and entirely blank as he collapses forward into Keith’s chest. From the moment he’s locked, Keith’s insides wet and warm around him, fluttering and squeezing uselessly around the intrusion… his knot grows rapidly. It fills out further with the stimulation, growing to the full extent of its size just inside Keith’s body, flaring out with Lance’s impending orgasm.

Beneath him, Keith’s eyes are open wide and unseeing, shock plain across his features.

“Please tell me it’s not getting bigger.”

“You asked for this. It’s like, basic canine biology 101.” Lance reminds him, but the words are shaky, as he teeters on the edge of his long-awaited climax. 

“Jesus, forgive me, I think I skipped out on that class” Keith is looking uncomfortable beneath him, squirming awkwardly as Lance’s knot stretches him further and further. Lance wishes he had the capacity to comfort him right now, but he doesn’t. Not when every shift and tense of Keith’s muscles feels heavenly around him.

His orgasm hits moments later.

It knocks the breath out of him, sneaks up on him and jumps him in its intensity, crashing over him like a wave. He grunts, doubling over to bury his face in Keith’s chest, fighting the strong urge to let out a soundless heaving sob of relief when the pleasure finally finds him. It’s blinding, a normal orgasm on steroids, his cock pulsing jet after jet of cum deep into Keith’s body all while his knot keeps him plugged full of it, never allowing a single drop to spill out.

A minute or two passes and Lance is still slumped over Keith, drooling a puddle in the center of his chest, mindless with the pleasure burning through him like a wildfire. His cock is still pulsing, spilling a steady stream of seed, making sure Keith ends up well and truly  _ bred _ .

“Are you  _ still  _ coming?” Keith asks eventually, sounding oddly offended by it.

“Mm, pretty much the entire time I’m knotted, it’s  _ glorious _ .” Lance slurs, kissing across his chest, sighing happily as he relaxes back into the feeling. “Yet another reason it’s better being a werewolf, just saying.”

“Gross. No wonder there’s so many of you bastards, you must breed like rabbits.”

“Not sure you can shame the act when you’re currently partaking in it.” Lance argues, rocking his hips forward pointedly to prove a point, though it’s a self-inflicted misery when the overstimulation hits him hard enough to bring tears brimming in his eyes. Beneath him, Keith doesn’t fare much better.

“Oh god, I swear it’s rearranging my guts, Lance, what the fuck? When does it go down?!”

“You’re fine.” Lance huffs, reaching down between them to grab Keith’s cock, pumping it back to full hardness in a matter of seconds from where it’d started to soften with nerves. Keith doesn’t complain much after that, conveniently. He goes starkly quiet, though the way his body spasms around Lance’s knot says it all, coaxing more cum out to fill him impossibly further. “More than fine, I’d venture.”

“Yes, yes, oh god yes, right th-” Keith shouts, writhing up into his touch, lost to it.

“That’s it, just like that, fuck my fist while you squeeze my knot. You’re a natural at this.” 

“Gonna come, I’m gonna-” Keith  _ does _ let out a sob when he comes, curling in on himself and inadvertently on Lance, burying his face into the curve of Lance’s neck and whimpering against his skin as the pleasure wracks his frame hard enough to leave him shaking. He spills across Lance’s palm, cum coating his fingers in a way that might be impressive if Lance wasn’t currently five minutes into filling him with his own spend. 

As it is, Lance just drops his hand to the seats and wipes it off, watching the micro-expressions flicker across Keith while he comes back down from cloud nine.

“Did you just wipe that on your seats?” Keith asks eventually, with a sigh. “You’re so fucking gross.”

“Relax, Keith, the seats are beyond saving considering the mess that’s coming when I finally pull out of you. Pretty sure I’m gonna have to burn them.” Lance shrugs his shoulders, biting his lips to stifle a bubbly giggle, entirely too giddy as the throes of orgasm stretch on even further. He’s still coming, his balls twitching where they’re drawn tight against his body, spilling a frankly supernatural amount of seed. “Now, get comfortable, we’re gonna be stuck like this for awhile.”

“How long?” Keith asks, as Lance slumps back down against him, boneless with the pleasure that keeps stretching on. Keith grows progressively more annoyed the longer Lance lies there, gently writhing through his high, his instincts urging him to press just that slightest bit deeper and fill Keith so thoroughly it’ll never spill back out. “Lance?! I’m on the clock right now, you bastard! Your shift might be over, but mine’s not! Don’t you dare fall asleep on me right now.”

“Oh fuck yeah, keep squirming around and yelling at me, it’s really doing it for me.” Lance whispers, earning a whack to the back of the head for his teasing. “Fuck, I don’t know, half an hour? Give or take?”

“What about your transformation?!”

“The wolf’s feeling pretty sated right about now, Keith, I’m not gonna shift on top of you.” Lance ventures with a fair amount of confidence, though he’s never fucked anyone this close to the full moon to know for certain. He’s pretty sure it’s a safe bet to make, when the usual snarling and howling wolf that’d be demanding to break free by this hour of the full moon is happily standing down in the back of his mind, properly pleased with itself and the current predicament. 

“So, what? I’m just supposed to lie here while you come for  _ thirty fucking minutes _ ?!”

“Yep. Sounds about right.” Lance nods, nuzzling into Keith’s neck, kissing him there. Keith reaches up, slipping his fingers into Lance’s hair and stroking through it, oddly comforting given the amount of tension still held in his muscles. Keith seems ready to bolt, if only he could go anywhere right now.

“Hardly sounds _ fair _ .” He says, eventually. 

“I told you, you vampires got the short end of the stick. Being a werewolf rocks.”

“Hm.” Keith hums, in a way that can’t mean anything good at all, that uneasy level of consideration causing Lance’s hair to stand on end. 

Slowly, surely, with a great deal of concentration… Keith rocks back against him despite the weight pinning him down, squeezing hard and purposefully around Lance’s swollen knot. Lance whines like he’s been kicked in the gut, the sound punched out of him.

“What the h-”

“Can you fuck me while it’s in?” Keith asks then, straight to the point, and Lance’s stomach drops.

“... In theory, yes.” Lance manages, in equal parts awe and dread, already knowing exactly where this is going with a sense of finality. “In practice, I think you’d actually manage to kill me from overstimulation.”

“Hm.” Keith says again, smugger this time. “Good thing that’s a risk I’m willing to take, then.”

“Fuck.” Lance curses, but there’s no arguing with him, because for as much as Keith is trapped here while Lance has his wicked wolfy way with him… Lance is just as trapped and Keith is just as much a predator.

When Keith rolls them, the jostle from the change of position alone is enough to have Lance humping against him clumsily, tongue lolling out to gasp for air while he keeps pumping his spend into Keith, unable to do much else. Keith settles on top of his lap, grinning toothily down at him.

“You can take it, just relax for me.” Keith says then, a mockery of Lance’s own words, as he rocks and writhes against Lance with the minimal wiggle room the knot allows him. Lance feels distinctly like crying, as it is he’s left adding to the myriad of scratches littered through the leather. 

Keith leans over him, kissing him on the forehead while he keeps flexing on top of him, bouncing on his cock with fevered determination. Lance blinks up at him through his wet lashes, pleading and helpless, still not sure if he’s hating or loving every second of this sadistic treatment. “Be a good boy, Lance, and maybe I’ll let you bury this  _ big  _ bone in me again sometime, yeah?”

That line alone should be enough to have Lance’s knot shrinking in theory, but in practice it’s still just as big and solid as before, keeping Keith tied to him with damning certainty in the face of whatever torture awaits him next.

“Remind me again why I’m attracted to  _ you _ .” Lance whines, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth against the onslaught of _ too much _ . Keith moves his hips in tight, controlled circles on top of Lance, using his cock like he might use a dildo, taking whatever he can from it as he chases his own pleasure.

“Give me your hand?” Keith asks, hips stilling for a blessed reprieve. Not wanting to anger him and miss his chance to catch his breath, Lance’s hand darts out blindly, mind blank as to what he could possibly want with it. All he knows is that he can finally think again, at least a little, through the haze of sex.

… And then Keith bites him, rendering his mind blissfully blank all over again.

Those long fangs pierce directly into the veins and his wrist, pumping him full of venom while Lance keeps dumping his seed into Keith, and from that moment on  _ Lance _ becomes a screamer.

“Fuck!” Lance shouts, thrashing beneath him. “Oh my god,  _ Keith _ , I think I’m seeing _ god _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you guys enjoyed that horny journey, I had a lot of fun writing it. Thanks for reading and please, please, please if you feel like leaving a comment do so below. I'd love to hear your thoughts, even if they're barely coherent, I'll treasure them just the same.
> 
> You can find me at my social medias below:  
> @melancholymango is my main on twitter/tumblr  
> @redgaysonly is my fandom/nsfw acc on twitter but 18+ followers ONLY please!


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